Trials of King Gaius
by Lord of Judgement
Summary: Only two people knew how King Gaius was born. Wingul who had been by his side during those trials and Musee because he told her. Set after 'One day in the life...'. Gaius/Wingul. Slight Gaius/Musee.
1. Premonition

**Summary**: Only two people knew how King Gaius was born. Wingul who had been by his side during those trials and Musee because he told her.

**Warning**: Violence. Moral ambiguity. Various explicit content.

**Pairings**: Gaius/Musee; Gaius/Wingul.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Tales of Xillia _world, story or characters.

**Author's Note:** Thanks to** Yume Hanabi** for her extensive assistance throughout and **ay-16r**. :) Comments are most welcome xD

Without further ado, I welcome you (back) to the **_updated and edited _**version of my story. That means I fixed some names and details to make it more accurate.

* * *

**List of names I keep from the original Japanese game because their localized version did not click with me at all:**

_Kanbalar – _Khan Baliq

_Auj Oule – _Ajur

_Muzet_ – Musee

_Long Dau _- Londau

_Fezebel_ - Fayzabad

_Erston_ - Arst

* * *

**TRIALS OF KING GAIUS**

_The stillness is a king of death,  
It is so still.  
Now all my strength goes out of me  
And all my will. (Laura L. Bird)._

**Premonition**

Gaius stands by the window with a glass of wine in his hands and watches the sunset. The view from his apartment is breathtaking; like waves, billow roofs of tall buildings, fancy ridges alternating with their unobtrusive brothers of stone, and between them, like islands in the sea, clusters of trees are seen. Even sunsets in Elympios are different; or maybe he fancies them to be – crimson and saffron yellow colors of withering overshadow mauve and indigo and it seems the sky is aflame.

On Rowen's advice, he rented a very decent spacious place which suited the role of an unconcerned, rich dandy by the name of Arst Outway who never found himself in poverty or in want of women's attention. He enjoys a drink in a loud company, boasting about nonsense and cracking insipid jokes. He isn't particularly fastidious about choosing friends and wins trust with a compelling, albeit rare smile. Since he arrived to Elympios a few weeks ago, he had succeeded in finding the right people to tell him about the current leadership of the Clanspear Company and the growing fear, even hatred towards the inhabitants of Riese Maxia who frequently practice Spirit Artes. Such lifestyle is unexpectedly addicting, but he never loses sight of his goal which, like a beacon, guides him through the days of storm and lull.

Gaius brings the glass of wine to his lips and swallows its contents in one gulp, barely feeling the astringent taste.

"I am so glad you wanted to see me."

"Musee," he says with a quick glance in her direction and returns to contemplating the view. She is late, but it is partially his fault.

"What are you drinking?" She approaches soundlessly and unexpectedly snatches the glass out of his fingers. "It doesn't taste like juice… in truth, it tastes really strange, but not unpleasant and now I think I feel lighter. I never thought it was possible… Can I have more?"

"You can't." Seeing how hectic flush at once covered her pale cheeks, he hides the bottle. The image of drunken Musee is extremely uninviting and if she on a whim decides to flee from him again, there is no saying what she will do. "Forget it, I am not letting you drink," he repeats, slightly appalled by the thought.

"Ah, what a pity… I am thirsty."

"We do not drink wine when we are thirsty. We drink to relax, or to drown our grief and forget about troubles… Wine affects you unexpectedly if you are not used to it. I, for instance, cannot say whether you will become extremely happy or sleepiness will overcome you. But," he adds with faint smirk, "you can have as much porange juice as you want. Hopefully, the treasury of Ajur will suffice to satisfy your demands."

"But I prefer cherry juice."

"I do not own a restaurant, Musee…"

"I wasn't serious. Porange juice is as good as cherry juice and I solemnly promise not to empty the treasury of your beloved kingdoms."

Gaius heads into the kitchen, pours a glass of cold juice and brings it to the Spirit; while she is sipping, he reclines in the armchair, crossing his legs.

"You promised to tell me about Ajur…" She asks suddenly. "I am sure you'll recall many exciting stories, but I want to know how you became a king. Since the last time we've seen each other, I've been thinking… What makes you so different from everyone else? I cannot be a king. It would have been a terrible burden, to have all these people begging me for answers. I would have hidden from them and ordered them to do whatever they wanted. How do you distinguish right from wrong? How do you bear looking into their eyes after you made a mistake?"

"You ask too many questions to which there are no unambiguous answers. But you are right, not everyone can carry the weight of such terrible responsibility on their shoulders."

"You do not want to tell me… Do you think I will not understand?"

"Perhaps, you will, but what use will you have for such understanding?"

Gaius recognizes the stubborn expression, but it is too late – she presses her hands to her chest, frantically fiddling with the collar of her dress as if it is stifling her, and her voice trembles.

"I know you think I am ditzy and irresponsible, I know you were annoyed when I ran away from you, but nevertheless you wanted to see me again. Only Milla is as stubborn as you are. But have you asked yourself, Mr. Perfect-I-Know-It-All-And-If-I-Don't-I-Can- Shoulder -Responsibility-For-My-Mistakes - "

"Humph, I try."

"…Have you asked yourself that your perfection might unnerve me a bit?"

"What if the truth isn't what you expect it to be?"

She shakes her head, "I am not a coward, Arst, and it isn't the truth I fear. I do not understand you and I cannot control you… You're so cold sometimes. But if I knew you more, you would never have to worry about me running away again… Please… "

Gaius closes his eyes and for a moment silence reigns in the room as Musee, unbeknownst to him, regards him with strained attention. He thinks that she remembered what he told her; perhaps she deserves an answer, after all.

"…If you want to know what happened to the real Arst Outway, you have to understand what became of Ajur before I was born," he begins. "Imagine a crippled human body – and maybe it will be hard for you to imagine, but try – whose parts cannot perform designated functions. We had a de jure king, but in truth among the tribe leaders who were never in the state of agreement with each other, his authority was not held in respect. Certain patriarchs possessed as much power as the supreme ruler, if not more, and nurtured ambitions to usurp the throne. Meanwhile the rest of us survived as we could; we built temporary alliances, traded with those unreliable allies and raided the borders of weaker neighbors… It was a time of chaos and confusion. Then Milan, the king of Rashugal died of grave illness, leaving no heir. As his sons fought for the throne, our king seized the opportunity to invade. War broke out like wildfire… By the way, porange juice is in the kitchen if you get thirsty. It will be a long story."

"Won't you get thirsty, too, Arst?"

"Some view you have of me! I am used to delivering long speeches which Wingul wrote for me…"

***o***

_Arrow after arrow, Arst plunged his anger and chagrin into the guiltless wooden target. He lost his royal dignity, behaving himself like a resentful, hurt twelve year old child in front of his father, but when he was told that his victory at the coliseum would not be acknowledged, he flew into a passion without deliberation. He yelled something incoherent and ran off into the nearby forest. They tried to appeal to his reason, explaining to him that the fault was not within him, but to no avail. It was unfair to forget his achievements because his opponent was the heir to the influential clan Shin and the king would not allow a mere child to triumph over the warrior twice his age. He was told his talent was raw and he lacked self-discipline. ''Tis a shameless lie!' He thought with malice, releasing another arrow into the target which bristled with shafts like a porcupine with needles._

_Arst was not afraid he would be found by the menials. He often came here to daydream, watching the sunset and slowly slipping into the surreal world born in his imagination – there he was a king to whose word everyone listened and whose feats were praised in unison; there every merit was rewarded and no wrongdoing remained unpunished; there everyone managed to be happy somehow. There was a reason he built his safe haven in the woods which surrounded the capital city of the Outway tribe – or, rather, a large village which they called their capital for the lack of a better place. Unlike the Londau tribe, they had nothing to boast of; not of the influence in the king's court, not of riches or fertile soils or incredible inventions. Outway clan was one of the poorest in Ajur, but that alone did not diminish Arst's desire to restore its pride and dignity in the famous coliseum at Xian Du where for generations the most powerful warriors fought to death. He thought he would finally help his father gain the power his family deserved, but instead king Merad himself interrupted the contest, forbidding him to take the life of the heir of clan Shin and thus bereaving him of the victory. If honor could be bought and courage bribed, then he had lost altogether. Clan Outway was too poor._

_Another arrow swished, plunging into the man of straw between its eyes and then…_

_"Arst!" He flinched, hearing her voice. "Arst, father asks you to come back! He says he has something important to tell you. He says it is urgent… Arst! I do not want to climb that huge tree!"_

_His younger sister Karla was the only one who knew about the existence of his haven therefore he shouldn't have been surprised she would attempt to find him. But nevertheless he felt slightly betrayed. If his sister didn't understand his indignation, then who would?_

_"When a woman requests something of you, it is only polite to oblige," another voice rang from below and Arst went hot and cold all over. He recognized that voice which belonged to Karla's fiancé, Yael. At the age of eighteen, he was already close to the patriarch of Londau tribe and had a bright future ahead of him, of which he did not fail to remind Arst every time they met. He regarded the heir of the Outway tribe with superiority which did not lack a certain degree of sympathy, but Arst felt only more aggrieved at him for that._

_"Why did you bring him here?" He leaped off the tree with a bow in his hands and flicked away the fringe which fell across his forehead._

_Karla cast down her eyes. "He is family…" She said humbly._

_"She asked me to escort her through the dangerous woods. How can I refuse my fiancée? Don't be such a cheerless bore, Arst. She came all the way to tell you that your venerable father is searching for you and you have my word, he looked worried."_

_"He is not a bore, he is just in a bad mood," his sister took his part, but he didn't need her protection. "He argued with father and father has a short temper."_

_"Every time I see him, he is in bad mood. Last I heard he nearly insulted Lin when our patriarch's son was only five…"_

_"It wasn't an insult," Arst remarked coldly. "If you want to see it as such, by all means, use it as an excuse to challenge me."_

_Yael was taller than him, but he was slender and strong in constitution and didn't fear a single soul in the known realm. After his victory at the coliseum, he felt invincible and in front of his future bride, Yael would not want to appear a coward therefore the fight seemed inevitable until Karla intervened._

_"I will tell father if both of you don't cease this silly argument! You should know, Arst, that we believe you are the winner, we remember you've broken the record and isn't our recognition more important than what those strangers think? I won't let you vent your anger on my fiancé. And you, Yael! You of all people should know how sensitive my brother is in matters which concern his honor and you provoke him unreasonably!" Tears welled up in her eyes and in righteous indignation she pointed at him, then at Yael who stood in silence, ashamed._

_"What use do I have for that acknowledgment? I didn't win the victory for myself, I…"_

_"I don't want to hear you complaining anymore!"_

_"I am not complaining…" Why couldn't his own sister understand what he meant?_

_Yael wrapped his arms around her shaking shoulders. "Now you've upset Karla. You're insufferable. Can't you ever yield, for goodness' sake?"_

_Arst sighed, knowing he had already lost. Although their marriage was arranged, his little sister was smitten by Yael, his charm, his appearance, his bravery – at his age, Arst wasn't supposed to understand all these intricacies, but he somehow did. Despite his position in court, he considered Yael unworthy of Karla's hand, but when he mentioned his misgivings to father, he attributed them to jealousy, not foresight._

_He settled on the lowest branch and looked at the halcyon skies, shielding his eyes from bright sunlight. "Tell father that I won't return until evening."_

_"You aren't good at listening, are you, Arst? As good as your performance at the coliseum was, needn't I remind you that in the upcoming war you will serve under my command?"_

_"It hasn't started yet…"_

_"You are wrong, this is the reason your father summoned you. And if you keep resisting, I will remind you that under the vassal obligation to Londau tribe, you…"_

_"Only a fool boasts of his foolishness," Arst mumbled through clenched teeth. Then he jumped off the tree on the edge of the glade and headed home in silence._

_They lived in a large house which, however, neither in size nor in fortification could be compared to the castles of other clan leaders. Arst had been to Samar and to Khan Baliq where he had seen these magnificent edifices. On the stairs he was met by Obelin, his father's adviser who was in his late thirties by many perceived a hopeless drunk. Why father kept him by his side remained a mystery to Arst. If he ever were to rule the Outway clan, he had sworn to himself he would never allow idlers and drunkards to be present in his court, regardless of their amicable character and merits of the past. He was led into the large room where his father received guests and held meetings. The furniture in it was decorated with a white-and-yellow flower with thin petals which was commonly known as Maxwell's hand. A map of Ajur hung on the wall opposite from the entrance door._

_Arst fell on one knee and pressed his fist to his chest. "Father."_

_His father chuckled, waving his arm. "What I like about my son are these generous impulses. He can argue with me and show disrespect towards me, but then he comes and demonstrates genuine regret."_

_"Your son has quite the character, I must say," replied Obelin, but by his tone Arst could not judge whether his father's adviser approved of him or not._

_"But this is not the reason why I summoned you here. I am sure Yael blurted it out by now. Ajur has formally declared a war on Rashugal, the letter from the Londau patriarch arrived today. You will meet them in Samar and then head to the Fayzabad Plains." His father pointed at the map. "Their army is led by a formidable general Rowen J. Ilbert, a master in his craft who served the royal family for many years. Do not dismiss him lightly, my son."_

_Arst nodded. "We will fight with the Londau tribe as before, won't we?"_

_"You will lead our small forces alone. I think it is time I entrust this duty to you."_

_"Isn't he too young to shoulder such responsibility, my lord?"_

_"No, Obelin, I think I raised him well. His victory at the coliseum proved to me that he can fight. But can he lead? Can he make hard choices? You will leave in a week with him, observe how he performs. And, Arst, do no make me regret this decision."_

_So he had been, to his surprise, chosen to command the infantry of the Outway clan._

_…__In the evening, when the sun has hidden for the night and stars strewed the skies as diamond dust, Arst returned to his haven and found Karla waiting for him. A wreath of summer flowers was in her hands. Treading lightly, he approached and put his arm around her shoulders._

_"I am sorry I was rude today," he said._

_"Don't mention it, I wasn't myself either. You fought in the coliseum, then you have to go to war… I am scared, Arst." She put the wreath aside. "But now I do not want to remember sadness; I brought us tea and a shogi board. We can stay here all night, playing and talking, if you want… and if you promise me you will be careful."_

_A careless, youthful grin lit up his face. "Don't be silly, Karla. I won the tournament. Of course, I promise you I will come back alive and well."_

***o***

"I didn't know you had a sister," says Musee when he briefly pauses to refresh his memory. "I think if I ever met her, we would get along very well."

"I remember Karla as a cheerful, charming girl, but for too many a reason we had not spoken for years. I cannot tell you how she changed after I left home, whether she would even understand me… I would not blame her if she hadn't forgiven me until this day. Although I do not know… I never asked. After an incident which occurred when I ascended the throne of united Ajur, it was decided that she would have to leave Khan Baliq."

"Did she want to?"

"I didn't let her decide. I could either retire for her sake or ensure her protection and I chose the latter. We have not spoken since." With a barely noticeable frown, Gaius changes the subject, "While I am trying to recall the events of that infamous battle, perhaps, there is a particular question you wanted to ask me."

Musee, humming something incoherent, flies round him. "I want to know… hm… I want… to know…" She freezes in mid air, tilting her head and unwittingly baring her shoulder – a sight he more and more often finds delightful. "What was your most embarrassing adventure?"

"Embarrassing… hm…" Gaius is thoughtful for a moment, then assumes the same imperturbable air. "Even as a child, I could not be easily disconcerted, but… as I recall, there were a few times when I wished the earth could swallow me from shame. One such instance I owe to my little sister, Karla. To this day I cannot quite understand what prompted her to play such a tasteless joke on me… perhaps she did not understand the implications…"

"A joke? Do tell me, please!" There is a familiar mischievous gleam in Musee's eyes and he knows he should tread cautiously on this slippery ground, but at the same time silly stories do not ruin kingdoms or incite hostilities and he sees no harm in telling her one. Besides, he wants to hear her laugh… instead of those who no longer can.

"I believe I was nine when my father finally decided to introduce me to the patriarch of Londau tribe. I mentioned before, Londau tribe had more political influence in court than my family and upon reaching a certain age we had to swear an oath of allegiance to their leader. In particular, it bound us to ally with them when a war broke out… If you recall, Yael once tried to accuse me of insulting Lin who was five at that time and a son of one of the most powerful clan leaders. It was not a deliberate attempt on my behalf to sully his reputation, but I did not deem it necessary to explain the complicated circumstances which led me to make a blunder. I was misguided, that was the truth… But what did I say before? Ah… my sister had a spirit like yours. Dauntless, curious… She accompanied us to Samar because my father wanted to find a suitable husband for her as soon as possible. It was a tradition to arrange marriages between our families; my mother, too, was from Londau tribe… I was to appear before the patriarch the following day; in the morning, she came to my room and told me I should prepare myself to meet his five-year-old daughter, Lin, and I suspected nothing because I vaguely remembered hearing that name somewhere. You see, in Ajur Lin is not a definitively masculine or feminine name. I felt uneasy the moment I entered the throne room where Londau's patriarch Lars sat in state, but I was a bit naïve back then so I didn't think someone would want to deceive me. I kissed _her_ hand and mumbled my speech, wondering why they would dress a princess in such odd garments, and – only, imagine – the whole hall, crowded with people, some standing, others seated, froze in such stillness that you could hear a fly buzzing by your ear. Every eye was riveted on me; some stared at me in mute horror, others barely stifled giggles and finally laughter rippled over the audience… A merciful soul seized me by the elbow and whispered into my ear, 'You might want to apologize to Master Lin at once'. And then I realized what I had done and felt blood surge to my cheeks… Many years later I asked Wingul if he remembered me calling him a jewel in his father's crown – in ancient times, they only addressed the king's daughters in such a flowery manner… I've made quite an exhibition of myself."

Musee gazes at him, her eyes wide open and her finger pressed to her chin. "Oi…" Then she giggles, awkwardly covering her mouth with her palm. "What did Wingul say?"

"Fortunately, he did not remember. I was punished – I had to pretend I deliberately played a trick on the heir. I had to listen to my father's lecture on responsibility, write a long apology and spend a month on the border with Kitarl tribe, all of which I stoically endured. I took blame for my sister's actions and later she apologized profusely so the issue was settled peacefully."

"But… did Wingul look like a girl?"

"I don't think so. I… don't remember. I know I shouldn't have implicitly trusted Karla..."

"I swear I saw you blush!"

"Humph... Wingul and I had a complicated story."

Musee smiles, but he cannot guess what she is thinking. "So tell me how Wingul became your subordinate…"

Gaius fastens his eyes on her and a deep frown appears on his forehead; all traces of unconcern vanish from his face and with renewed steel in his voice, he objects, "Haste makes waste, Musee. Long before that, there was a battle on Fayzabad Plains… and months of hopeless search thereafter."

***o***

_Arst's eyes swept the horizon and returned to the glistening sea of human bodies which swashed at the bottom of the cliff whereat he stood. The army of Ajur gathered to meet invaders from Rashugal in all its glory; banners were flapping in the wind as far as the eye could see, boasting of valor and splendor – in the distance, flew the proud eagle of Shin and the mighty dragon of Londau and in front of him fluttered the snow leopard of Aktau. Everyone came with the exception of Kitarl tribe, for they bore a grudge against Londau, but Arst was not worried. Many smaller clans, like his, answered the king's call to arms when their leaders were offered a cause to unite. The Outway clan would never rise against Londau even if the king commanded them, but against a foreign enemy they would wage a war freed of both moral and legal constraints._

_"Rowen J. Ilbert," he whispered under his breath with seriousness unbefitting to a twelve year old child, but long ago it occurred to him that he had grown up much faster than his peers. "Tell me, Obelin, what do you think this renowned strategist will do? That cluster of hills to our left may become the most vital part of the battlefield because whoever has it, wins."_

_The sky was without a cloud and sun shone brightly in his face. How he loved the sun of Ajur…_

_"I don't know, young master. Ilbert isn't the kind of general who shows a clean pair of heels once he loses ground," cheerfully echoed his father's adviser. "Our best bet is to defeat them face to face with superior force."_

_"Ha-ha! You have neither the imagination of an artist, nor the shrewd mind of a strategist. The objective of a war is not to destroy utterly, but to subdue. Remember, how elegantly – how simply but elegantly – our ancestor defeated Rashugal in a naval battle near Sapstrath Seahaven. Deception is one of the oldest weapons of war… How much do you want to bet that I will be able to destroy the right flank of Rashugal army?"_

_"It's a bold assertion…"_

_Arst easily laughed and gestured towards the hill to his right. "No, truly, you are not perceptive. Look over there! Nature provides us with a perfect cover… if we advance quietly, we will be able to take them by surprise. The maneuver won't win us this battle, it won't win the war, but it will give us a certain advantage."_

_He stood on tiptoe, then sank back in strange trance; compressing his lips, he futilely tried to understand why on such a sunny day his heart had been heavy since early morning. Fear could not be the sole reason – he faced great challenges before and emerged victorious. But that day he felt a presence of a dark cloud on a cloudless sky. Overcome with anxiety, Arst barely kept his attention riveted on the conversation with Obelin, but his father's adviser was too blind to notice his mood. And the nature was so deceptively quiet…_

_The low, imperious sound of a war drum resounded across the valley, invading his thoughts; once, then twice it shook the firmament and ended on a shrill note of a horn, signaling the beginning of battle. Arst flung himself into the saddle and without looking back to see whether Obelin followed, galloped towards the main encampment of the Londau clan. Wind ruffled his black hair and tousled his long cloak. He was in his element whereas a lot of his subordinates, he noticed, appeared frightened and even Yael changed countenance although he tried to conceal his fear by fretting over his delay. Arst ignored his complaints, guided his steed to the front and galloped along the still line of footsoldiers. He did not distinguish between his subordinates and Londau vassals, addressing everyone who could hear him. Lively, brazen, skillfully holding back his restive steed, he attracted gazes even when he was twelve and many were willing to listen to him._

_"I know you are afraid," he shouted, unsheathing his long sword. "But look at me! I, too, tremble from fear." Here Arst acted a bit against his conscience. "I, too, know that many of us will die today. Perhaps, I will perish honorably with them. But our sworn enemy awaits us. I say – we stand unshakably! I say – today we prevail! Desperation turns eagles into vultures. Let us not despair and if it is our time to fall, we will die like eagles!"_

_Perhaps among those who listened to the future king could be found skeptics, who deemed him to be a young romantic, but in the face of death not even words inspired courage, but the conviction with which they were spoken. And so the footsoldiers brandished their weapons with a roar and drew forward. Two dark lines with the swiftness and inevitability of avalanche rushed towards each other._

_Arst was in the heart of battle. His horse fell in the first skirmish, pierced by an arrow, but he continued fighting on foot. His maneuver proved to be a small success when Rashugal footsoldiers, taken by surprise, withdrew towards the center in utter disarray, spreading fear and causing disorder. Arst's sword tasted blood, but he fought with even more frenzy than during the tournament and blood which stained him was not his own. He did not know what transpired on the rest of the battlefield until a mounted messenger from the Londau patriarch miraculously delivered him the inauspicious news. The center of Ajur army seemed to be in a stalemate with Rashugal forces, the left flank faltered after general Ilbert directed his cavalry against clan Shin and even their mighty warriors could not withstand the charge. Having pondered over the somewhat unfavorable development, Arst decided not to pursue his fickle success on the right flank, but to obey Lars's orders and aid the Londau clan. The results exceeded his expectations. Although their left flank almost collapsed, a breach appeared in the center and the Londau tribe drove a wedge into the enemy's defenses and Rashugal soldiers wavered. At the same time, general Ilbert withdrew for no apparent reason, providing them with an opportunity to surround their forces. _

_And then Arst felt the ground shake beneath his feet which at first did not alarm him much, only made him wonder what could cause those light tremors. He glanced round, noticing that the horses and other beasts they trained for battle behaved strangely; suddenly they, as one, decided to disobey their masters. Horses pranced, filling the air with shrill neigh, a dozen wyverns – all they could get without Kitarl's support – which carried archers on their backs disappeared from view, and instead hundreds upon hundreds little black dots covered the sky and obscured the sun. Upon scrutinizing such an unusual phenomena, Arst with his eagle eyes discerned birds which were fleeing somewhere in panic. His attention was diverted elsewhere in the most inopportune moment and a faceless Rashugal footsoldier with whom Arst only a moment ago fought equally upended him, scratching his shoulder with a spear. Pain returned him to his senses and, thrusting his sword into the enemy's stomach, he drew himself to full height. Obelin was dauntlessly fending off foes with the wind artes – miraculously, they did not get separated in the heated battle. Having ordered his father's adviser to lead the Outway forces into victory without him, Arst found a young black stallion which thew off his rider in frenzy and contrived to quiet him down so that the animal would let him climb onto his back without protest. _

_When Arst rode up the hill where the main marquee was set up, the Londau patriarch, seeing the success of their maneuver, was preparing to join the battle with his remaining forces. Arst alighted and addressed him respectfully but fearlessly although in full armor, decorated with a red dragon, the patriarch presented a rather impressive sight. _

_"__Master Lars, I have urgent news from the battlefield. I ask you to hear me out before you ride out there and possibly doom our army."_

_Lars Londau threw a glance at the battlefield, at the churning, boiling sea of human bodies, and bent the brows. "Now is not a good time, but I'll listen to what you have to say... Outway? Arst Outway, isn't it?"_

_Upon entering the largest and the most luxurious marquee he had ever seen, Arst momentarily felt faint and confused; the patriarchs of three largest clans gathered around the table on which lay a map and a strategy board. "Speak quickly, Outway, I don't have all day," Lars ordered him irritably and patriarchs, quitting their seats, together with their vassals, who crowded behind their seats, fixed their eyes on him at once. _

_"__According to the ancient tradition of the Outway clan," Arst said firmly, surprising himself, "there exists a way to predict certain natural disasters and, in particular, tsunamis. If the earth trembles, and animals flee every which way in fear, then it is said a man should follow."_

_"__How old are you, boy, to speak of ancient tradition?" Asked the patriarch of clan Shin mockingly._

_"__I could have sworn I felt tremors earlier!" Exclaimed a young and sprightly leader of clan Wi who had only recently inherited the power from his deceased father. "And then I've seen birds, thousands of them, fleeing to the south and I wondered what kind of ill omen it was. I think we should listen to him..."_

_"__Your superstition __is a talk of the town from Xian Du to Khan Baliq," Lars Londau twisted his lips in a contemptuous grimace. "The severity of your assertion, son, is such that we may forfeit our victory today! I can't risk the chance to conquer Rashugal for incoherent gibberish about earth tremors and fleeing birds. So think twice and thrice before you insist on telling us tales..."_

_"__It's not just birds," Arst tried to explain. "Look outside, the wyverns are gone, too. Horses and beasts disobey their masters as if we have all of a sudden lost our ability to control them. It's not a coincidence, a tsunami is approaching from the sea... If it washes over the Fayzabad Plains, we won't have an army." By the time he finished speaking, Arst was pleading. _

_"__Do you suggest we retreat, boy?" Patriarch of clan Shin roared with laughter. "In your cowardice you are ready to listen to every greenhorn who opened his mouth. What can he know? We're gonna get out there and crush those bastards and drink well afterwards."_

_Arst would say that he knew enough to defeat his son in the tournament, but abstained from interference for the success of his daring endeavor depended on how respectful and persuasive he could appear in their eyes._

_"__But what if there is a tsunami heading our way... I'm not going out there!" The young patriarch of Wi exclaimed, scandalized. "I value my own life greatly!"_

_"__What of the people who fight for you? Think of how many lives would be lost... Do they not matter to this gathering at all?!" Indignation enlivened the pale bloody mask of Arst's face. _

_"__Our land gives birth to those commoners by a dozen each day. No harm will be done if a few of them don't come back."_

_Arst clenched his fists, but Lars came to his aid before, in a fit of anger, he would ruin everything he has just achieved. "I've glanced outside and all wyverns had indeed vanished from the sky. It's very unlikely that we lost control of every single beast simultaneously... You said it could be a tsunami, Arst? Hm..."_

_If only he knew the words which would convince the patriarch, Arst thought bitterly; it seemed to him a simple matter of finding the right words. _

_"__Venerable patriarchs, I suggest we should not listen to anything this boaster says," a young man stepped out of the throng of vassals and Arst in utter befuddlement recognized Yael. _

_"__Boaster?"_

_"__Don't you recognize him? He is the one who tried to say that he won the recent tournament in Xian Du. And now he tries to earn your approval by lying to you while on the battlefield general Ilbert's faint-heartedness had provided us with a once in a lifetime opportunity to subjugate our sworn enemy!"_

_"__I knew I've seen him somewhere! Ha-ha! I told Merad the boy was trouble, we should have gotten rid of him as soon as he tried to cheat my son out of his deserved victory."_

_Arst __blushed poignantly, "Yael, why are you doing this to me, to Karla, to those who serve you faithfully?"_

_"__Wait, what about the wyverns? We can't explain their behavior."_

_"__Venerable patriarchs, if you are worried about the slight possibility he might be correct, I would suggest not to leave the marquee. Our army should pull off a victory without your presence. If you send the rest of our forces at once, no tsunami will hinder you from winning for the water should not reach the top of this hill."_

_"__I think I can agree, it seems the most sensible decision in these circumstances," enthusiastically said Lars. "There are many explanations for the animals' behavior which we did not consider. And you, son, frightened us muchly. We let our fear rule our hearts, not reason... Order to signal the advance, Yael, and since you seem so unconcerned with Arst's words, you will lead them in my stead..."_

_"__I won't let you," objected Arst, taking a step backwards. "I will save whoever I can myself. Servants should not suffer for their master's idiocy and stubbornness."_

_"Who do you call fools, insolent boy?! Take him away, do not let him frighten my soldiers."_

_Three or four lancers skirted him, their weapons threateningly directed towards him. "Yael," he appealed to Karla's fiancé again. "Have I ever asked anything of you? Now I ask… no, I beg you… I beg you! Please…Alone I can't…"_

_Then, seeing that his words did not produce a desired effect, Arst felt a surge of strength. Having shoved one of the lancers aside, he made a desperate lunge towards the entrance and flung himself into the saddle. An archer shot at him, missed, and himself like an arrow, Arst flew towards the battlefield where the tide had finally turned for Ajur army._

_But the patriarch of Londau tribe could not allow for such trifle as a life of one young boy to ruin his triumph. He snatched the bow from the archer's hands, aimed carefully and released an arrow, taking into consideration light wind which blew from the north. Arst's horse suddenly reared and, falling, he noticed a black shaft in its croup. Somehow he climbed from underneath the agonizing animal without a grave injury; somehow he crawled onto a mound and from there he witnessed the disaster occur._

_The headway of Rashugal cavalry on their left flank was stalled and when the fresh forces advanced in the center, they could not offer much resistance. Then – and everyone felt it – the ground underneath the plains shook, horses and people fell, formations broke, lines blurred when figures in crimson and white in perplexity turned their gazes at the sky. There was a moment of absolute stillness. And then somewhere overhead a roar was heard, low, threatening sound sweeping over the battlefield, and like an enormous ten-headed monster came into sight the contours of a tidal wave. Dark, shapeless, it devoured the distance between the shore and the battlefield with incredible speed. Trees, hills, small huts of fishermen fell prey to its insatiable hunger easily, not for a moment delaying its wrath. The battle ceased. Those who but a heartbeat ago would willingly in the heat of the moment slit each other's throats threw their weapons aside and scattered across the Fayzabad valley. They tried to escape, but were overtaken by the turbid wave which washed them away from the surface of the earth and continued its triumphant march; the only true victor that day._

_There was something morbidly alluring in the grandiose advent of the disaster, however of those final moments Arst did not remember much; he was running as he was never running in his life, swallowing the fire in his lungs. He had no time to be afraid or to worry over the fate of the rest of his soldiers or to utter incoherent prayers as some of his unreasonable brothers did. He mindlessly ran, and when the wave had finally overflowed him, he managed to stay afloat. Its rage abated, it still posed considerable danger to him as the stream carried along large logs, corpses and debris. Choking on salty water, numb to any pain, Arst fought for his life against the force of unfathomable might. When he finally struggled out of the water – not due to any particularly heroic effort on his part, rather because the torrent mercifully released him – he could not walk. Coughing, he fell onto the wet ground in a fit of shivers, which then subsided to heavy breathing. Darkness lapped against the edges of his consciousness, weakness spread through his body, crippling him as it often happened after inhuman overstrain. Scraps and shreds of thoughts were swarming in his brain, but he could not clutch at any one, could not rest on any one, in spite of all his efforts. He had survived and everything else made no nevermind to him._

_So he lay for a long time. Now and then he seemed to wake up and in such moments he noticed it was far into the night, but it did not occur to him to rise or make a fire. Soon he started shivering from cold and blood loss, but the few feet he managed to crawl did not help him warm up or find food. By the time the green light had branded the horizon oblivion overcame him for the second time and he succumbed to dreamless slumber._

_He woke up from the light touch of warm sunrays on his cheek; vanquishing weakness, he managed to assume an upright position and glanced round. A lake surrounded the small island he was stranded on, swashing by his feet, and now and then corpses drifted by with indifference he was beginning to envy. It rained at night and in the puddles he found enough fresh water to quench his thirst. He had nothing to eat to restore some of his strength he needed to swim across this new body of water; however Arst knew delirium and weakness were bound to return and therefore he decided to venture leaving his shelter in search of food. By noon, guided by nothing but intuition and luck, he found another island – large and dry – but as he cautiously approached it, he discovered he was not alone. A small fire kindled on rocks which shielded a man who somehow seemed familiar. Upon scrutinizing him, Arst realized that indeed he knew that man from before, but he would rather die from hunger than spend even a day in his vicinity. However, Yael had already noticed him; uttering a startled shriek, he immediately outstretched his arm and pulled him out of the water._

_"Arst! Merciful heavens, it is you, Arst! How glad I am to see you!" He exclaimed, bustling about him like an overprotective mother. "When the wave washed over us, I thought no one survived. Frankly, I don't know how I did, but somehow… I am here now, aren't I?"_

_His long dark hair smirched with dirt, his face bruised, his sister's fiancé presented a rather deplorable sight, but Arst felt no pity for him. Moving his bloodless lips, he only asked, "And patriarch Lars?"_

_"The patriarch is alive," Yael echoed with downcast eyes. "They found refuge on the hill and the water never got to them. But the rest of our soldiers... they drowned. Horses became rabid and dragged them under water... How terrible, how terrible!"_

_He kept mumbling incomprehensible sentences, trembling all over. Arst moved closer to the fire, stretched his arms towards the blessed warmth and his vision momentarily blurred. Then he stirred, shaking off fatigue, and turned his attention to Yael again. Karla's fiancé appeared more helpless than a child, but upon taking a closer look, Arst understood that he was the reason behind his bizarre behavior, not so much the trials of the last twelve hours, not so much the gloomy prospects of near future – after all, the army of Ajur ceased to exist. Of the forty thousand most talented, disciplined warriors and simple peasants recruited for the war, only scraps remained, but no, Yael was fidgety and unhinged solely because of him._

_"What can I do for you, Arst? Are you wounded? Hungry? I have some food, not much, but…I found supplies, mostly moldy, but there is bread and dried veal which you can have. What am I talking about? You can have it all!"_

_"Why?"_

_"W-what do you mean? Why, why? You need food… and I already ate…"_

_Arst fixed his eyes on him and mercilessly explained, "Why didn't you support me? I came to the patriarch to prevent the disaster, to save the lives of my people – of our people – but it was all in vain because you did not listen to me! Why?"_

_"I-I don't understand what you are talking about…"_

_Arst felt a surge of profound hatred which overlaid all other feelings. "Look around you! There, you see? A corpse with an eagle on his breastplate. A warrior of clan Shin. And there, by his side, a Londau archer… All faceless, nameless, dead. Because you did not listen to reason! Lars Londau was willing to lend me an ear, but you dissuaded him!"_

_Yael fell on his knees, whimpering like a child, tears streaming down his face. "Why are you doing this to me? Yes, it is my fault, do you want to hear me confess? I am a hopeless fool! I should have listened to your words, but I haven't… I should have died, but I haven't… I am a failure, Arst. Do you think I do not know what I am? Or my torment is not cruel enough? Why do you have to remind me times and times again how my reputation is ruined? What will I say to Karla? How will I look into the eyes of all those widows… oh, merciful heavens, why do you have to remind me?!" He clutched his head in both palms and screamed in frenzy._

_But Arst was not satisfied. "You did not listen to me because I am young and naïve and inexperienced. Is that the truth?"_

_"Truth, truth… no, the truth is much more unpleasant than anything you can think of. We were winning, Arst! You saw it… Rashugal army wavered; we were so close to victory. How cruel is my fate? I already imagined myself at the head of a triumphant procession entering through the gates of Samar… and Karla meeting me with a smile… I wanted glory and recognition and there you were, giving it all away to me because of some madness that had poisoned your mind. Where is my glory now? I am ruined! Ruined! And Karla will not want to marry a wretched fool like me… Why would she? Why would she carry the unbearable burden of my shame?"_

_Arst felt suffocated. His fingers of their own volition found a stone, clutched it with such force that its sharp edges cut into his palm and when Yael in his pitiful lamentations turned his gaze towards the sky, he struck. His sister's fiancé cried out, but very faintly and fell flat with a smashed temple, yet Arst dealt him another blow and another until blood gushed forth onto his hand. Then he froze and, coming to his senses, wiped his fingers on the grass. Only perplexity reflected in Yael's eyes, eternal, haunting question forever imprinted in their depths. Why? He murdered thousands of his people for a meaningless cause and he could not even bear the shame with dignity. Feeling sick and hollow, Arst pushed the body into the stream and it disappeared under water with a splash._

_And stillness returned, undisturbed._

***o***

"…I broke a promise I gave to my sister," Gaius concludes his tale in the same toneless voice. He on purpose omitted the part in which he murdered Karla's fiancé; it was the truth which would die with him. But the rest… he told Musee everything. "I gave her my word I would come back, but I failed… The Arst who returned after weeks of wandering across the desolated wasteland wasn't the person she knew although it took months for the changes to manifest themselves in full. I was angry, I was consumed by doubts, questioning my every step, I was… lost. My world had collapsed onto itself, like a burning castle previously built of firm rock meant to stand unshakably for years, and I spent hours, arguing with myself over the obvious flaws in the way the tribes were ruled, over my role in the future of my country, over my duty to my family… Too early I learned an invaluable lesson that without power, no one would lend an ear to my opinion. Too early I learned that achievements could be erased; that truth and wisdom were enslaved by demands of the mighty and nothing was fair and free. That form of government which relied on delegation of power to the members of one dynasty for generations was self-defeating and yet only I seemed to notice it. The history with the tidal wave repeated itself, but this time it gradually swept over me until I was anew choking under water, struggling to remain afloat. Enlightenment is akin to a deadly poison, from it there is no cure."

"Later," he continues with a faraway look, "I understood I was not entirely correct. It is easy to believe on the initial stages of growth, as your self-awareness develops, that every conclusion you derived from the aggregate of raw evidence is… unique. Hm, too easy… In truth, many believed things needed to change, but not many were willing to seek a solution and act resolutely. My superiority did not necessarily manifest itself in the way I thought, but in my determination and strength of will. As numbers of my followers rapidly swelled, I made another invaluable discovery: people are happier without indecision. They are happier when most choices presented before them are illusory, when they clutch at the belief that they decide their fate while subtly it has long been determined for them."

"By someone like yourself," she finishes his thought quietly and her eyes brim in semi-darkness with an emotion he does not yet understand. "But…"

"You are beginning to see the unsolvable paradox. I introduced a new system of values into Ajur society, but to adhere to it, I had to sacrifice my happiness, prioritizing the whole over myself. Ruling a country, I cannot consider the fate of one part to be more important than integrity; I cannot be guided by personal interests... yet at times, it is only myself and my convictions that I can rely on. It is a very narrow, slippery path, that which I had walked upon for far too long… I would lie if I said that from the beginning I understood everything as lucidly as I do now. Choosing the name Gaius, I rejected Arst Outway…but for a while, I see it now, it was an empty name."

"I don't wish to believe you! Deep inside you're still Arst Outway and if you decide to retire, he will return…"

"It is an empty sentiment… In the face of unpleasant truth, it is easy to deceive yourself with a comfortable lie, but it is a weakness. Arst would never abandon his sister or without a moment's hesitation choose to sacrifice Lin's life for his own. He would compromise whereas I acted mercilessly." Gaius does not raise his voice or otherwise show anger or discontent, but she nevertheless shrivels under his harsh immovable stare. "Do not make a mistake, judging me..."

Musee looks dispirited, humbled, but only momentarily. Finding inner strength, she implicitly challenges him although from her he expects acceptance. "Then let me compromise… for you."

"How?" He inquires, intrigued.

"Although I did not know you before… everything happened, you told me enough about Arst Outway. He will be alive," she touches her temple, "albeit in my memories only."

A smile appears on Gaius's face – reserved, but nevertheless a smile. Somehow she had found the correct words. "Yes," he says," I can allow that."

She reaches out to him, twines her arms around his shoulders and presses herself to his chest. "They should have listened to you… It's so awful that they didn't. But it wasn't your fault, you are… amazing."

"Am I, truly?" He teases her.

Under his intense stare, so obviously inviting that she blushes to the roots of her hair, Musee moves away, but remains curled up on his lap, and he resists a desire to kiss her out of apprehension to frighten her off. The thought of chasing the peevish Spirit all over Trigleph seems unattractive in all respects.

"So… when are you going to tell me how you met Wingul?"

"Kneeling in front of me in liquid dirt, his arms outstretched pleadingly, disheveled, he rather resembled a beggar than a king, but at the age of thirteen he was a more dignified king than most…" Gaius's smile fades. "But that happened a few years after I left home…"


	2. The little General

**The little General**

_"Did you go to the river again, Arst?" His sister reproachfully demanded. "You know it is dangerous to walk on the shore when it is inundated with heavy rain. Why do you needlessly worry father? He has been so sick lately. And with your condition…"_

_Arst thought about lying, but when he looked at Karla's face, an odd feeling, a mixture of guilt and morose pride, flooded him and his heart ached. "Sorry, I tried, but I couldn't… again…" He mumbled, looking away._

_"Then abandon these futile attempts!"_

_"I can't, how can you not see?" Deep in his mind, he damned his honesty. His condition… Karla was referring to his almost pathological fear of water which he attributed to physical and mental pain he suffered during the dire calamity on the Fayzabad Plains. Water in his mind became tantamount to death. He couldn't approach a stream without nauseating terror overwhelming his whole being. He could not as much as dream of swimming – those dreams quickly became nightmares and he woke up covered in cold sweat, quivering. He used to feel great delight, challenging the tallest waves on a stormy day, and now he was disgusted with himself and his despicable weakness. "I mustn't lose my senses now, but it is so hard… What would you have me do? Live my whole life, tormented by nightmares?"_

_"Have you thought what would happen if you fell into the river? You might drown. What if you drown? Father has a weak heart, he is fading away during his illness…"_

_"I might as well die if I cannot defeat my fear."_

_"That's so selfish of you to say… What happened to you? You became aloof, you spend so much time in solitude… You don't want to play with me anymore. I feel as though a year ago you… you lost something very important. What is it, Arst?"_

_He sank upon the chair, pulling the book from underneath the cushion and opening the page he had marked. "I don't understand it myself, Karla. Now leave me be."_

_Heavy silence hung in the air and Arst expected his sister to leave as she always did, discouraged by his unwillingness to maintain a conversation, but she knelt by his side instead and lowered her head onto his lap. He didn't object._

_"Is father going to die?"_

_"Maybe," he echoed absent-mindedly._

_"Then we won't see him again, like mother… Arst? Why do people have to die?"_

_He tried to concentrate on the obscure meaning of the passage, but once again found himself futilely reading the same sentence thrice. He couldn't ignore her although he heartily wished to._

_"People die because… " Then he realized he had no answer. "I don't know why. They simply… die. It is said they are reborn again someday. A never-ending cycle… But sometimes people die because of foolishness... I don't understand it either. I don't understand anything."_

_After Arst returned from Fayzabad Plains, he found his home in a deplorable state and for a year helplessly watched it become a dwelling for ghosts. His father came down with a fever, calling his dead wife, raving about an island to the south of Ajur where he in his youth had to execute a dozen war prisoners and now out of repressed inner craving for redemption remembered their faces, begging the emptiness for forgiveness. He never truly recovered from that fever. His health slowly declined after his wife's death, but it was Arst's return that dealt him a merciless final blow. Karla said that when the news of the tidal wave which swept away the army of Ajur reached him, he paled, clutching his heart, but accepted his son's death quite calmly. There was no outburst, he didn't scream or weep, but his face froze in that unforgettable expression of quiet, humble acceptance. When a few weeks later Arst appeared on the threshold of their house in torn clothes, famished and unwashed, but alive, it was altogether too much for him. He cried from joy and disbelief, then laughed like a madman and then fever overpowered him, sapping his last strength, and from that day onward he slowly faded away and aged terribly. If anyone surprised Arst, it was his father's adviser Obelin, who by miraculous concurrence of circumstances survived the disaster unscathed. As though sobered by an event which shook the whole country, he seemed to have abandoned his drinking habit and helped Arst immensely in governing the Outway clan or whatever remained of it. They didn't have to fear retaliation from Rashugal because both countries were severely weakened and chose to temporary cease hostilities, but problems at home amassed with alarming quickness. About three or four months ago Obelin straightforwardly confronted him about his father. One of his legs was already in the grave, he said and later suggested that Arst took the reins of government in his hands and visited the patriarch of Londau tribe. Arst agreed, but during the renewed negotiations they argued. Despite what the patriarch wanted, Arst refused to give away the crops and furthermore provide military aid in a campaign against a group of outlaws which appeared on the border with what used to be the Fayzabad Outback and now became Swamp. Outlaws of the marsh, they called themselves. He estimated correctly that the Londau patriarch did not have enough forces to punish the Outway tribe immediately, but their time would elapse soon. Once again he was reminded of his powerlessness and once again he swallowed the insult, wondering how much more he could bear. The thought was somewhat apathetic, as though he observed himself from above with queer curiosity._

_"What are you reading, Arst?" Karla refused to give up on him that day. "_The dictums and deeds of Shal king Vogel_… __Can you read for me?"_

_"You will find it boring. It isn't a fairy tale…"_

_"Please."_

_Arst looked into Karla's pleading eyes and heaved a sigh. "As you wish…" He sustained a pause and continued in an unfaltering, expressive tone of an orator. "…And so the nobleman was brought before his eyes and forced to kneel in front of the throne. 'Is he the culprit?' Asked the king. 'I beg you, Your Majesty, to let me go. I have broken no laws and done nothing wrong,' indignantly cried out the man. But the king was adamant to his entreaties. 'It has come to my attention that you have repeatedly beaten your wife until she was compelled to write me a complaint.' 'Is it why I am here? Because of that whore's big mouth… She deserved every lash, every bruise! Because so says the law! Your wife shall become your property, yours to punish and cherish according to the measure of her fault or merits.' 'Tell me,' then replied the king. 'How many cows do you own?' 'Over two hundred,' proudly replied the nobleman who was indeed rich and…"_

_"Arst," Karla tugged at the sleeve of his tunic. "Arst, why did he beat his wife? Did he hate her? Father didn't beat mother because he loved her so this man must have hated his woman!"_

_"If you want me to continue reading, don't interrupt me."_

_"I am sorry, I won't. Promise."_

_"…who was indeed rich and possessed a lot of influence at court. 'How many calves did each cow bring you?' 'Two or three. My cows are of fertile age.' 'And you own your cows and their calves.' 'Yes, Your Majesty. Forgive me, but I do not…' the man began, but the king interrupted him. 'How many sons did your wife beget?' 'Two. My youngest is sprightly and bright, a true joy to any father's heart!' 'Then they are as much your property as are the calves,' sternly declared the king. 'Then you, too, were your father's property! Laws should not be dictated by our personal biases and inclinations, but by the universal integrity.' And so the nobleman withdrew from the throne room in shame and the barbaric law which made wives their husband's property was changed. Such was the wisdom of King Vogel." He put the book aside and stretched his numb legs._

_"What does it mean?"_

_"Laws which were established for personal interests allow incompetent people to rise to power and stay in power. Such laws should be changed. I know nothing else, Karla."_

_His sister's eyes widened from perplexity. "But why cows and calves? I am so confused… What connects them and laws which should be changed?"_

_"You're so silly sometimes, Karla," Arst said, disheveling her hair in a swift gesture, and drew himself to full height, but wrinkles on his forehead had smoothed out and a faint smile enlivened his immovable face._

_His sister settled in his chair, wrapping her arms around her knees. "Do you remember, Arst, how we used to fight and one of the maidens always lied to father that you started those fights?" She giggled. "There was one time when I snatched a book out of your hands and ran because I wanted you to chase me, but you were so livid… and you were stronger and faster than me – I envied it. That's why father believed that maiden. And you never tried to justify yourself as though you enjoyed punishment. I didn't understand why, but I do now. And that maiden… I know her reasons to lie, such silly reasons." Karla's smile grew wider, gaining a touch of cunningness, but her gaze was sad and wistful. "Why did she want to earn your affection by telling the untruth about you? It made sense to her somehow…"_

_"A maiden? I don't recall her face…"_

_"Yes, the auburn-haired girl with plump thighs… You don't remember her? I miss those times terribly… Sometimes I lie in darkness and I imagine these… I don't know how to call them, wheels of iron and copper, as small as a coin and as large as a mill. They keep turning and turning before my eyes, but I somehow know that they can turn backwards. And I want them to turn backwards; I want to wake up when mother was still alive and you… you were different. And Yael…" she coughed. "You never told me what happened to him."_

_Arst averted his face. "Isn't it obvious that he is dead?"_

_"I saw him last night in a dream… he spoke to me. He implored me to wait for him." She pressed a palm to her trembling lips._

_"It is not possible, I…" Arst broke off in the middle of the sentence, repressing his anger, which prompted him to speak rashly._

_"So you know what happened to him! Why didn't you tell me? He perished, didn't he?"_

_He sometimes thought why he killed Karla's fiancé and rarely liked the answer. What guided him then? Hatred and contempt or a desire to render a semblance of poetic justice or a craving to regain control of his life?_

_"I told you," he insisted, fixing his gaze upon his sister, "I haven't seen him after he charged the lines of Rashugal army. I am certain of his death because it was not possible to survive the tidal wave."_

_"But you did…"_

_"If you were there, you would understand," he said tartly. "And you could have chosen a better husband."_

_Karla did not deserve that response, but Arst hasn't forgiven Yael. He couldn't forgive even the mere shadow of his memory. And nobody could have predicted how the conversation would end had Obelin not interrupted them by conveying his father's message. Arst left without glancing at his sister._

_His father confined himself to a small, scarcely alight room whereat he spent most of his days reclining in a large chair. He retained remarkable clarity of mind, but his body failed him, having become his prison. A quilt embroidered with bright-yellow citron flowers lay on his knees and he absent-mindedly fiddled with the fringe as he talked, the jerky movements of his fingers and lips contrasting with his otherwise motionless features. But that day Arst noticed hectic flush on his sallow skin and a bright twinkle in his eyes, only he did not know what worried him more, the sickly pallor or this semblance of life, which smoldered in him like last coals._

_"Obelin, close the door behind you. I wish to speak to my son in private," he addressed his adviser. As they passed each other, they exchanged quick glances and Arst received a morose warning."I received a message from the Londau patriarch today… I understand I am not fit to rule, but while I am still breathing, I will take part in making important decisions! Why do I have to learn of your impudence from the patriarch himself? I am embarrassed to think that my own son could…"_

_"I treated them as they deserved to be treated, father," replied Arst in an unwavering voice. "They demanded more crops than it was agreed upon; they demanded whatever scraps of infantry we have to chase after ghosts… a group of outlaws on the border of Fayzabad Marsh…Even if someone rebelled against their patriarch in these difficult times, I would not blame them."_

_"A noble intention, but foolish," retorted his father. "I accepted the status quo when I could still walk and now, when I cannot even lift a sword, this acceptance soothes my soul like a balm. I burnt myself out. We are the Outway, we demand nothing."_

_"But we aren't weak! I won the tournament, I warned them…"_

_"And every time you saw that power wrote history in spite of every effort you put forth! Do you believe yourself to be the only young boy who dreams to be blessed with a special vocation?" His father tried to rise and the letter fell out of his hands. Arst picked it up. "Have you heard me? Until you are an Outway, you won't change anything. And every service you render to our country will be castigated as the vilest of crimes."_

_"I won't let my people die of hunger… I won't betray them! Even if we are weak, we should not be sacrificed!"_

_"Then they will die in a fire; sacrificed nevertheless to the unmerciful law… And if you asked them, they would choose famine."_

_"He won't dare…"_

_"Read the letter, Arst," replied his father with pity. "The Londau patriarch burnt one of our villages on the border so as to warn us what would transpire should we choose to persist in our disobedience."_

_Trembling all over, noble anger gleaming over his pale face, Arst flung away the piece of parchment. "I must go to them! I will find the culprits and…"_

_"No, you will remain here, by my side, for such is my order as the Outway patriarch. Even if it is my last order, I will save you from your foolishness!" Imperiously objected his father as if his own ire gave him strength and it was easy to imagine in that fleeting moment how he in his youth commanded troops and presided in the Large Council of tribes. "And then you will write an apology and agree to however humiliating a demand. You feel you can give up your own life for the people? Then prove your resolve by sacrificing your pride!"_

_His father's words rang in his ears many hours later as he mounted the steep path which led to the river. Evening shadows lay on the ground and fogs crept upwards, chill and thick; so thick that it was hard to discern surroundings a few steps ahead. Arst thought of disobeying his father's orders – the desire to act was maddening – but he managed to restrain himself. A father to a son was a rock; for a long time, Arst used to think of his father in that way and that way only. A father was a sacred figure, one who could do no wrong, who could not falter, who always knew what to do and how. Now it pained him greatly to think that his father was nothing but a coward, but there was a share of truth in his words which Arst with reluctance had to accept – as an Outway, he would not be able to stand against the Londau tribe or against the whole kingdom of Ajur. But before he could as much as dream of leading a rebellion, he had to face himself, conquer his fright or die trying. People from those burnt villages would never follow a leader who feared water._

_The shore was desolated, the only witnesses to his struggle were barren stones covered with thin grass. They were slippery and Arst trod carefully; with each step he slowed down, halting before the view of the river unfolded in front of his eyes. Blood was throbbing in his temples and even the faintest splash of water against stones sounded like a deafening roar of a tidal wave. He was seeing dead bodies floating in the stream. He tried to imagine the tender touch of river waters, their fresh scent, however, instead he saw but its cruel force and smelled the putrid stench of bloated corpses. As he wandered across the wasteland, he had seen many of them, rotten, mutilated by animals, wrapped in dirty rags which used to be garments decorated with proud emblems._

_What was the power of men before mysterious forces of nature?_

_Ironically, their numbers, unity, discipline – all that which would have won them a battle on any other day sealed their annihilation. Their strength turned out to be their greatest weakness. Could it be that his weakness for some inexplicable reason became his strength? Thinking so, Arst approached the edge and threw a glance downward. It was so still. Milky mist filled the seemingly endless void, his head reeled and suddenly he wanted to run as he ran on that fateful day in a mindless, desperate attempt to save his own life. Fear was shapeless, like scraps of fog curling and uncurling around his legs. His heart was beating vehemently. His fists were clenched._

_And then a voice rang in his ears, a woman's voice.__'You are so brave, Arst...'_

_A shiver of excitement went up and down his spine – of strange overwhelming excitement – and his throat felt dry. Arst spread out his arms as if about to embrace the whole world and, pushing off the rock, leapt into the turbid stream headlong, thinking as the water closed above his head, as it flooded his mouth and nose and lungs – for one indistinguishable moment in a fit of madness thinking he would surrender to darkness and numbness – yet when pain flared up in his chest, fear released its firm grip on his soul and he desperately reached out for the blurry surface, after a short struggle with the torrent emerging from under water, shivering, coughing, gasping for cold spring air._

_Free._

***o***

"That's how you knew…" Musee whispers, pressing a forefinger to her chin in a manner he finds oddly charming. Children think innocently and genuine naiveté always possesses a particular charm, if nothing else. "That's how you understood what became of me when Maxwell did not answer my plea. And even before… when I began killing everyone who knew about the schism. I suppose those memories cannot be erased no matter how many years pass."

He rivets his eyes on a single flaming dot on the dark-indigo sky where the whole world seems to have been suspended in utter stillness. It is a fancy of his imagination, but an alluring one and for a moment he forgets Musee is waiting for an answer.

"If you are strong enough, it is absolutely necessary to remember your past," finally he finds the thought he wanted to express. "My resolve was forged during trials, I came to cherish my achievements and people who stood by my side because I learned from my mistakes. Had I been shielded from them, I would never have enough will…"

"But I, too, understand what happened to you… I can see you in front of my eyes, as you stand on a cliff, waiting for an answer…" she continues as though she didn't hear him. "So young, so alone… And you wish someone could give you an answer, but deep inside you don't believe anyone will. Everything you knew becomes foreign and unfamiliar. Loathsome! And then you snatch at the most desperate thought, knowing it's a lie – it's all a lie! – but even a lie fills the void. I… I think I understand everything now…"

She changed, Gaius thinks suddenly. She didn't waste the gift he gave her and with Maxwell's help, no doubt, she changed.

"That would be the most foolish statement you have ever made," he says sharply. "It is of utmost importance that I tell you the entire story which, I believe, gets more and more intriguing… You'll see." Musee smiles happily and he is once against astonished with the reasons which overjoy her.

"I guess you want to explain how cows and laws relate to each other… Human world is so complicated."

"That's not what I… ah… They don't relate at all!" Propping her cheek with a palm, she casts a playful glance at him, but says nothing, and he heaves a sigh. "You do remind me of Karla… sometimes."

"Was it a compliment or a hint on your part about my resemblance to your annoying sister?"

"Both. And don't tell me you haven't been frustrated with Milla."

Her countenance changes, "Don't remind me of Milla! I don't want to think of her, I don't want it at all… I am so awfully worried, you don't understand."

"Why? I am perfectly capable of understanding your worry. What happened to her?"

"That's just the trouble, I don't know." Then she raises her pale and mournful face and casts at him this commanding glance, as if he _has _to give her an answer. "She vanished from the Spirit World."

"Then you must search for her. If you want my permission to leave, you have it, I won't be offended."

"You are so insufferably stubborn! And where will I go? Do you want me to return to the Spirit Land to face the emptiness or fly from one city to another, guessing futilely if I am to find her around the corner or maybe by the gel shop or in the crowd of people… I have done so many times! With you I can at least… _unthink_, lay my troubled thoughts to rest."

"By pretending the problem doesn't exist you will never solve it," Gaius objects coldly. She does not respond, she doesn't even look at him, and all of a sudden he is at a loss for words. Everything which comes to mind seems ill-timed or improper. Then he waves aside the irritating thought, for it isn't his role to dictate Musee what she ought or ought not to do, and abruptly resumes the tale. "If you must know, another year had passed before I realized what needed to change. My father died that winter and my sister blamed me for his untimely passing. I saw it in her eyes when, conversing, we strayed away from mundane topics of weather and crops. In spite of what I thought I would do out of inner craving to rebel, I had to concede to the demands of the Londau patriarch and pay additional tribute. I remember I was enraged, but it was helplessness that pushed me further and further away from the rest of my family. You might wonder why I didn't seek their help… It's complicated. But when I finally decided to leave - and, mind you, it was not an easy decision - I got a glimpse of fate which awaited me… I was fifteen, but it often seemed to me that time had played a trick with my mind and I was much older…" Gaius closes his eyes – a gesture which shows fatality, closure, acceptance. "Ironically, it was the disaster on the Fayzabad Plains as well as my powerlessness that exposed the weaknesses in the former leadership to me. I found the answers I needed by a naturally determined coincidence – I say coincidence because I could have easily overlooked that phenomena out of inexperience. And who knows? At times, I think even the disaster which cost us nearly forty thousand lives had to have happened otherwise the circumstances would never align in such a favorable way and the seeds of change would never fall into so fertile a soil. No social conflict arises out of nowhere and disappears into nothingness… With famine came maladies and that particular one was known in Ajur as _holy fire _or Efreet's curse. The latter name was popular among the more superstitious villagers who understood very little about its nature. Those who were infected by it died in indescribable pain. They raved and vomited; chills and fever were usually present, malignant, intermittent, you know; obstinate. Their skin was covered in these red… blotches which itched terribly. Even experienced healers from Rashugal did not know how to treat it, but at least they unmistakably identified its source. Rye, which was left unattended in barns for a while, upon consumption caused the disease. The harvest that year should not have been meager, but due to the dearth of work force on the fields, it was and we had to empty our reserves not to die of starvation. The core of Ajur infantry consisted of peasants who in time of peace tilted the land, but after so many of them perished in a tidal wave, fields became desolated, overgrown with weeds, green sea of grass dotted with clover stretching as far as the eyes could see… One day I stood on the edge of an abandoned field, consumed by melancholy, and there it dawned upon me that if Ajur had a permanent army which served the throne and whose expenses were paid from the treasury, not by the small landlords when those half-soldiers, half-peasants had to gather under one banner, then the fields would not be left unattended and the large tribes who were responsible for supplying the king with troops would lose their power… it was my first coherent step towards uniting Ajur. And I am not trying to say that I drew the conclusion easily. Many sleepless nights preceded that day and for many an hour afterwards I pondered over my conjecture, but… I believed with my whole being I had discovered the right direction…"

"My first attempt," he continues with a wry smile, still aflame with the passion which was rekindled in him by memories, "was a disaster incarnate. If you try, you will not imagine a more ill-fated and poorly considered event. Hm… So poorly considered indeed that it left me utterly discouraged, on a verge of abandoning any endeavors to reach out to the people… Even now I can understand my own feelings. Many episodes from my childhood I have utterly forgotten, but that particular one I remember well. However, there were already those who believed in my vision and together we decided to retaliate…"

***o***

_The village was burning lazily, as though the satiated fire temporarily confined itself to a role of a vigilant spectator, malignantly sputtering and spitting sparks at the horsemen who, in small numbers, entered the settlement from the north. There could not be more than four or so dozen of them in the detachment at the head of which rode a slender youth on a dapple-gray mare which, swift and strong, would take anyone's fancy. The youth, too, was of noteworthy appearance; he looked winsome and forbidding at the same time and it was hard to tell to what he owed such first impression, whether to the biting gaze of his eyes or to the furrows etched in the corner of his thin lips or to the disheveled mane of raven-black hair. It seemed to impart to his countenance an even gloomier expression. Another particular detail which immediately burst upon the eye was his outerwear; black and red, it bore no markings of a known Ajur tribe. He was addressed as simply Gaius by his companions, but often when they hailed him, there was a long pause before he responded, suggesting it wasn't his birth name. And even his sister would only with difficulty recognize in him the Arst Outway she once knew._

_The cavalcade unhurriedly passed the pair of burning houses under ornate roofs with fanciful ridges and went deeper into the maze of narrow streets. Plumes of smoke ominously hung in windless air which was permeated with the acrid smell of charred wood. The villagers, having abandoned their homes, hid in nearby grooves and forests. Gaius ordered them to leave and even the most stubborn finally gathered their belongings and grudgingly plodded along the dusty road towards the sunset. The small garrison stationed in the settlement did not offer resistance, retreating in utter confusion after Gaius's unit tore down the gate, but the villagers, despite being left without protection, tried to fight for their homes and acquired property with unexpected fierceness. However, among them was found no one who could withstand Gaius's might. _

_Suddenly the youth alighted and a horse came abreast with him on which sat in state a rider in his late twenties. Yan Wi was a castaway of the Wi tribe who, before being accused of committing a series of transgressions, enjoyed the many privileges of the royal minion. At first, he claimed to belong to the landless nobility, but soon enough shared with Gaius scraps of stories from his unfortunate past. From those he knew that Yan had a young wife and a rival from clan Shin who slept with his wife and framed him for murdering one of the guards in a tavern brawl. In a desperate attempt to clear his name, Yan beseeched his wife's father for help; the latter agreed quite eagerly and together with his perfidious daughter forged enough evidence against him to persuade Merad to exile him. So Yan traveled south to settle in the lands of the Outway tribe where no one would pursue him. There by chance he met Arst Outway who was embittered by the injustice of the current leadership and, impressed and inspired by the youth's determination, he offered the future king his sword and loyalty._

_"Are you still intent upon challenging the Londau patriarch? It seems suicidal to me, Gaius," he said, wiping sweat off his forehead. He was of frank disposition; his emotions always reflected on his face and could be read easily - anger or joy or contempt, he didn't consider it necessary to conceal his passions._

_"What's left for me to do?" Gaius clenched the handle of his sword. "If they cannot respect me, they have to fear me for now; they have to know I will not be deterred… do you understand?"_

_"But they will send everyone after you… Once you kill the Londau patriarch, you will declare a war against the corrupt king and threaten everything they cherish. They will proclaim you outside the law and a beggar who takes your life will be promised a considerable reward. And don't doubt their generosity..."_

_"You have last minute doubts, it seems. They will not detain me either. Let them come, I will strike them down! Until I have the will to protect and guide the weak," he swiftly outstretched his arm towards the burning houses, "I will not perish. I cannot perish." He won the tournament, he survived the tidal wave, he jumped into the turbulent river waters to defeat his fear and lived. What more proof did he need?_

_"Perhaps if we assassinate him in secret…"_

_"No, I have no use for such trickery this time. They cannot fear a silent shadow without a face or a name. Gaius… it is the name I have chosen. It is the name I will be known by from this day onward. It is the name which cannot become the symbol of cowardice."_

_And Gaius walked uphill, free-hearted._

_He burnt all bridges. He left Obelin in charge of his affairs as the leader of the Outway tribe, he abandoned his sister, he even changed his name so as to protect those who shared it with him. Gaius managed what Arst Outway could not and it was to escape the curse of his birth. 'When will you come back? Will you come back at all?' Asked Karla when he left and he didn't respond. He didn't know what to say. If luck favored him, then he would think of being reunited with his sister. Until that day, he would not even dream of it so as to never give in to the demands of his aching heart._

_The Londau patriarch, in an attempt to uproot all malignant influences of the local rebels, burnt a few villages on the border, thinking that those measures would prove sufficient to quench the insurrection. Gaius retaliated swiftly and mercilessly. He invaded the land which belonged to Londau clan, but instead of relying on the power of his followers only as the other patriarchs grew accustomed to, he remembered the ancient writings where in the first wars with Rashugal the leaders of small tribes resorted to other __weapons of war such as circumvention and clever tactics. To lure the fire teagle away from his lair meant to lure the enemy away from the advantageous position into the carefully __prepared trap. _

_Yan overtook him on the top of the hill which afforded a fine view on his positions below. Clusters of houses in the village were scattered far and apart therefore, having set a few of them on fire, Gaius accomplished an illusion of utter havoc without, in actuality, destroying too many buildings. Once the news that the rebels had struck again despite the punitive measures he had taken reaches him, Lars Londau in a fit of ungovernable rage will rush towards this nameless village __and it (Gaius couldn't think of it without a mixture of glee and sadness), in spite of his confidence and power, will become his grave. Gaius divided his footsoldiers and hid them in those houses which were spared by the fire; he positioned archers on the roofs and ordered to make wooden barricades with sharp spikes on both sides to separate Lars's force. He did what was humanly possible in such a short time to prepare against an onslaught of superior army. _

_"__I want you to lead my forces in the center," said Gaius. "I will meet them at the gate... Do you see that fence? I'll wait for him there..."_

_"__You'd be the bait then. How unfortunate... Perhaps I should go in your stead. But you're stubborn... How can I convince you that the role of bait suits me better?"_

_"__Don't object to this, I've made up my mind. Let Lars think that I am foolish enough to have come here to pit my strength against his. Let him think that it will be an easy victory against an insolent boy who lost his mind, grieving for his father. It's almost... too easy..." Gaius's voice dropped to a whisper._

_"__You're dangerous because you anticipate how your enemies will act. No one I knew thought like that. Even I never... Perhaps, if I, in my circumstances, had the power to predict what my enemy would do, I'd end up in a better place. But where is that better place, after all?" Yan waved his arm and headed downhill. "Don't worry, I'll keep my promise to stand by your side. Just don't get yourself killed before your time comes."_

_...The battle commenced at sunset. Lars Londau did prove himself to be foolish enough to attack when deep shadows on the ground proclaimed the evening nigh; Gaius reckoned on his carelessness and bravado not without a reason. Astride a well-groomed stallion, Lars entered the settlement as its rightful owner at the head of his cavalry. He wore the same breastplate adorned with the red dragon, which he wore on the day when Gaius's unit perished in the battle of Fayzabad, and to him it seemed a subtle mockery although Lars by then had forgotten about that lapse in his judgment, __drowned the memory in endless feasts, hunting diversions, and displays of royal benevolence. Gaius was as certain of it as he was of his own inability to forget. The youth drew the reins and his horse reared, attracting the patriarch's attention. As he thought, Lars charged towards him with his many horsemen. Gaius turned his mount around and guided it through the maze of narrow streets. The bearer of his red and black ensign rode by his side. Once they passed a pair of unremarkable houses, a jinkai played a perky tune, arrows flew from the roofs and a throng of foolsoldiers poured out into the street. Gaius halted and glanced back. They would not deter the patriarch for long and such wasn't their task. He rose in the stirrups and, outstretching his arm towards a small hut, shouted, "Set it on fire!" A master of flame artes conjured a fireball which slowly disappeared inside the shack and momentarily it belched fire and smoke out of the windows, painting the sky a shade of deep crimson. _

_The trap sprang shut._

_There was a moment when it seemed to Gaius that the patriarch would somehow manage to flee unharmed. On the eastern side of the settlement the fires refused to burn and after Yan advanced towards him from the village's center, Lars's weakened cavalry unit tried to seek refuge there, but Gaius noticed the standard bearer fleeing – it was foolhardy of Lars not to order him to drop the Londau ensign – and hurried to overtake him. By a smoldering barricade, his steed reared up in fear and threw him off. Gaius swung his sword, sparks flew up into the night sky and the obstacle crumbled. He could not let Lars escape; every other thought was no nevermind of his. Someone emerged out of thick smoke with an unsteady gait, lunged uncouthly forward and fell on one knee. Gaius didn't bother to fight a wounded man and, upon turning the corner, found the patriarch's forces surrounded in a large house which, judging by its size and the intricacy of its adornments, probably used to belong to the village elder. From then it seemed a simple matter of crushing them, however, even on the first glance it seemed that Lars occupied an advantageous position. His casters erected a barrier around it which prevented Yan's attempts to set it on fire. His right hand was there, too. The battle continued elsewhere, but it was fading as scattered parts of Lars's cavalry unit either surrendered or fled in confusion, and Yan's forces converged on the weak enemy in full. Unnoticed by his allies and foes, Gaius touched the slightly shimmering fabric of the barrier and his fingers tingled; a sturdy construction, he thought. Many lesser spirits were at work. If one could summon the Great Four, he would probably have no chance of breaking it, not without preparations, but rumors were afloat that it became impossible to tether with them. _

_Light, fire, his will and might becoming a weapon – he felt a cold shiver going up and down his spine. His sword struck against the barrier, sparks flew and the wall shimmered. It weakened, if only momentarily, in it a narrow breach appeared and through it he squeezed himself without a thought of what he would do afterwards. _

_"__Intruders!" _

_There was a scream and a patter of feet. Gaius raised his sword at a slant and thrust it into the stomach of the nearest footsoldier. Blood sprinkled onto the wooden floor of the veranda, but he was already advancing, ascending the short staircase in long purposeful strides. Another bodyguard tried to stall him, another body sprawled across the narrow sultry hallway... _

_"__Outway?! Arst Outway?! So it was you all along! Unforgivable insolence!"_

_Suddenly there were no rooms to pass and Gaius faced the enraged patriarch himself. Lars was a formidable foe and the youth did not expect to gain an easy victory over him. He was rumored to be a master of Spirit Artes, commanding the lesser Spirits of earth with confidence and skill, and many of his faithful servants were by his side. _

_"I am Gaius," he replied, calmly, stifling his rage. It wasn't a good idea to charge into battle distraught, but the very man he considered responsible for the demise of Ajur army was within his grasp at last. "I claim my right to challenge you as Gaius and I shall defeat you as him. You," he pointed at the bodyguards, "interfere, and you will die."_

_"__Ordering my servants as though you have gained an advantage... How arrogant of you," Lars sneered. "Kill him!"_

_Gaius raised his sword, pivoted, cleaving the enemy's forehead, withdrew to stab the attacker behind him in the throat, pivoted again, gracefully, in time to parry a thrust. Two bodyguards lay dead, the third one was bleeding from a stump which used to be his arm, the fourth backed away, disarmed, and the last one, although he managed to avoid Gaius's arte, looked pale and uncertain. The patriarch pushed him aside and Gaius, so as not to lose sight of them, sidestepped. It proved to be a nearly fatal mistake. He blocked Lars's crushing arte, deflected a sword strike, but the caster who seemed preoccupied with holding the barrier, refused to stand idle while his leader fought. He conjured a wind blade and it hit the youth in the back; he staggered from crippling pain, but he would have recovered if the patriarch didn't follow through with his arte. Suddenly Gaius was on one knee, there was blood streaming down his face from the cut across his forehead, obscuring his sight. Bewildered, his missed the moment when the patriarch's sword pierced his shoulder and for a moment it seemed to him that everything was over; that he would loose so foolishly to recklessness, which he had seen in his enemy, but not in himself. Somewhere a man without an arm screamed himself into fits._

_It was not painful to fall._

_Gaius groaned, pushing himself off the floor and assuming an upright position. He was not used to the sight of his own blood. He felt dizzy and faint, yet at the same time stronger than when he walked into the room unscathed. There was something in his glance that stopped the patriarch. His bodyguard carelessly swung his club, anticipating a quick victory, and fell, slain in a blink. To rise, to stand on his own two legs again – that, truly, was no small feat. Gaius was bleeding profusely, but his sword flared. He gritted his teeth, passing his hand along the blade, and with a loud grumble lunged. The patriarch, with a surprised look on his face, tried to shield himself, but a wave of fire and light flung him away, like a rag doll, scattered the casters about the room, scorched the walls; the barrier was no more, Lars's burnt corpse rested in the corner and Gaius, tottering, made it to the wall. The room quickly filled with his allies, Yan rushed towards him, there was fighting and shouting around him, but he heard nothing. Blood was throbbing in his temples and the world swayed, but Gaius outstretched his arm into emptiness, attempting to speak. _

_"A tyrant had fallen," he said, coughing. "Fear no more of his wrath! Rise up with me! Rise up... with me..."_

_"__Gaius! Gaius! What happened to you?" Gaius hung in Yan's arms and even as his right hand tried to lead him away, the youth continued mumbling an incoherent appeal. "Why did you rush into the battle alone? I told you not to get killed... What am I to do now that you're wounded? Who will decide whether to spare or to execute our prisoners?"_

_"__Get our troops out of this village," was all Gaius managed to whisper in response before he lost his senses from pain and bloodloss. _

***o***

"…I was careless in the early years of my insurrection, before I understood that even my life did not belong to me," Gaius brings the glass of porange juice to his lips and sips from it slowly. In spite of what he thought, the story turned out to be a long one and eventually he felt thirst. Musee was more than willing to get him a drink. "However, I rarely repeated my mistakes… Afterwards, as Yan predicted, the new Londau patriarch, a brother of Lars, sent an army after me. Guided by the desire to avenge his family, he threw everything into that cauldron of war, but I defeated him, too. I suppose I was too clever… At first, mine was a hope that after I killed the eldest members of the Londau family, the resistance would wane, but to my surprise I discovered that I achieved quite the opposite result. Although half of their forces now deserted to join the ranks of _Taurus, _as I called my ill-assorted group, the rest as though magically united. Someone inspired courage into them and all of a sudden it was me who suffered one loss after another. They were not decisive defeats, but here and there in small skirmishes by an important road or a bridge I began losing followers… Imagine my astonishment and chagrin when I realized I was losing to a mere child. It may be very shrewdly argued that ours became a war between children, but I never regarded myself as one. And yet, there he was, a worthy adversary who if not by force, then by great cunningness evened out our chances… You see, he also wanted to unify Ajur… I never believed he could crush my rebellion, I would argue he lacked resolve and confidence; if I were him, I would request aid from tribe Shin at any cost, but he decided to confront me on his own, with whatever amount of footsoldiers he had left. I - "

"Wingul! I know it was Wingul!" Musee exclaims excitedly.

"Then he was known as Lin Londau. His followers devised an affectionate name for him, the little General… Unlike his uncles, by his uncanny talent for strategic thinking he earned respect and adoration of many commanders. The little General… hm… There used to be a popular song about him…" Gaius crosses his arms behind his back and clears his throat. "_Come drink, my brave boys, and never give o'ver… Come drink, my brave boys, as I've told you before… _and then followed something about drinking with the little General would bring you good luck. I don't remember the rest…"

"That was terrible, you cannot sing, Arst!"

"W-was it? I was never properly taught… Wingul, however, was quite the lyricist." Off the top of his head, Gaius can recall a few of his poems, one of which he turned into a song with seemingly noble intentions to promote his popularity among his people. When Gaius heard it, he immediately made a decision to ban it.

"He could sing?"

"Occasionally, I suppose, when he was sober and when..." When he wasn't celebrating his love, Gaius thinks to himself.

"Humans are so complicated. Sober means he didn't have any of that... drink that you hid from me?" Light blush covers Musee's cheeks. "I think Spirits only feel differently after they tethered with a human directly. We feel overflowing with life!"

"You mean it's like getting high?" Gaius asks, amused. "Perhaps this is where a very Riese Maxian expression to be in high spirits comes from. In Elympios they say, 'I'm joyous or glad or overjoyed,' but I've never heard that particular one."

Musee smiles enigmatically, briefly resting her hand on his shoulder. "If you ever decide to lend me your power again, I'll be happy to direct tether with you. I hope you won't ever need another Great Spirit to fulfill your wishes."

He remembers that rather odd sensation which overtook him when he tried to tether with her last time, but makes nothing of it. "So where did I leave off? Hm... I was telling you about the little General. He was clever, too. He made even the smallest of my mistakes costly. Eventually, contrary to what you might read in some books, he managed to corner me in Mon Highlands. It is a dreary place in late fall… There our bitter rivalry finally came to an end. At least, it appeared so to the outside world..."

***o***

_Gaius morosely glanced at the strategy board, then at the map and at the board again and clutched his head. He disliked the place chosen for battle; the gorge, through which in summer soaked, rather than flowed, a small stream, froze over, presenting a danger to the advancing forces which even the little General himself did not seem to realize. Reconnaissance only confirmed Gaius's misgivings: The ground there was too soft, the spirit clime unsteady, but he, in spite of being Lin's antagonist throughout the struggle, did not wish him ill. Lin had proven himself to be a worthy adversary and Gaius was imbued with respect towards him, yet the little General was more valuable to him as an ally and a servant than a foe. That thought was on his mind for a while, but in such contingency he had little hope of persuading the youth to join him. _

_"__There will be an avalanche in that gorge tomorrow, if we fight Lin there," Gaius addressed Yan in a peremptory tone. "We must change our battle plan. It's like an old show which no longer fits."_

_"An avalanche? Merciful heavens, what makes you think… Forgive me, Gaius, but we had a solid battle plan. Any change might be fraught with disastrous consequences. Our soldiers want stability. I daresay after we lost the last battle and allowed ourselves to be trapped, the morale of our people was undermined… I daresay, significantly undermined. Your reputation will inspire people for as long as you keep winning. You begin losing and they will abandon you… and you'll be lucky not to wake up with the dagger in the back."_

_A waft of cold wind stole up to him through the chink in his tent and Gaius shivered. "Have you ever heard of the Fayzabad disaster?"_

_Yan drummed his fingers on the table top. "Who hasn't?"_

_"What if I say I could have saved at least a third of Ajur army that day?"_

_"How? A tidal wave isn't a general you can defeat by clever tactics or superior numbers."_

_"__No, it isn't, but you can defeat both of them with farsight," his dull eyes flashed fire. "You can't stop or deter an avalanche or a tidal wave, at least I am not aware of any spirit arte powerful enough to do so, but you can avoid unnecessary casualties. You should not leave the outcome to possibilities."_

_"__If we use our advantage of high ground, we will destroy Lin's army in no time."_

_"I've heard you saying this at least two dozen times…"_

_"So I was wrong then, but now…" Yan slammed his palm against the board and pieces on it fell one after another. "We need this victory… Even if this avalanche buries Lin's infantry alive, we will have the game in our hands."_

_"So you will consider it a victory."_

_"Doubtlessly so, my lord."_

_"I did not lead this uprising to satisfy your craving for vengeance."_

_Yan paled. "It has never been my intention… Yes, I am a victim of the incompetence of the current leadership, but I… I never…"_

_"You are quite eager to eliminate, to execute, to burn… At first, it was the tidal wave five years ago, then border skirmishes with ruffians and clan Shin, then our insurrection, then the avalanche… What will remain of the once proud Londau tribe? And if such trifle does not worry you, then with what army, pray tell me, are we going to wage a war against Merad? Those soldiers will become valuable citizens of my kingdom in not so distant future. They are not the kind of enemy with whom I cannot make peace... I must speak to Lin."_

_"So you do wish to warn our enemy about the possibility of the disaster… How careless it is of you, my lord. You know, I won't lie to you… If we do not win tomorrow, we might not live long enough to cross our swords with the current king."_

_"Sometimes I wish I could summon Obelin. He, at least, didn't subject my every word to severe criticism," Gaius lost his temper. "Leave me!"_

_"My sole desire is to serve you well, to prevent you from acting rashly, and you're prone to acting imprudently and unwisely," offended, Yan withdrew from the tent, but Gaius didn't spare his right hand another glance. He made up his mind. Who was capable of seeing his vision – not the ashes and ruin, but the kingdom he wanted to build after the war? Who could picture the castle gate opened to the people? Who would agree to the abolition of the nobility's hereditary privileges? Who could feel the fire which consumed him whole? _

_At times, solitude became unbearable._

_Without thinking, Gaius picked up the quill and on a piece of parchment hastily, pressing the sharp tip into the yellowish sheet, wrote a few fateful words:_

_'_From Gaius to the patriarch of the renowned Londau tribe, greetings and best wishes. I sincerely hope this letter will find you in good health and in the right mind to hear what I have to say.._.'_

_There must have been something in his letter, he thought later, which convinced Lin to meet him at sunset on a hill where his tent was set up. Gaius didn't see him for a few years, but still he didn't expect to face a frail boy of low stature; he expected a more imposing figure. Instead, in a black coat adorned with fur, he looked absurdly. Thin face framed in raven-black hair which reached his shoulders was white as sheet, but his clothes accentuated the pallor and his features seemed lifeless. By his side, stood a tall, scrawny youth with sparkling blue eyes and a mop of unruly sand-colored hair. His disposition was naturally genial and bright and presented a stark contrast with Lin's. If Gaius never met Lars's son, he would probably confuse master with a servant. Nils Freeden was the latter's name. _

_"__Why have you come?" The little General stepped forward and inquired quietly. Cold wind ruffled his hair and he, absent-mindedly and with certain awkwardness, repeatedly tried to tidy __it._

_"__Lin Londau, call back your troops. The ground here is unsteady. If your men continue advancing northward in large numbers, they will definitely cause an avalanche," Gaius replied assertively. _

_"__Don't listen to him, Lin. He's in a predicament and he's trying to get out of it by deceiving you," Nils scoffed. "Look at him, he is desperate."_

_"__I don't understand." The little General stared at him and only at him. "Why have you come all the way from your camp, alone, just to meet me and tell me that? Why aren't you using the situation to your advantage? I can order my guards to kill you..."_

_"__Then order me to kill him!" Nils brazenly put his hand on the handle of his sword. _

_"__No, Nils. Have you so quickly forgotten behests of our forefathers? We must be polite to him, even if he is our enemy. We must hear him out. Speak, Gaius. That is your name, right? Gaius?" And the little General wearily closed his eyes. There was something familiar in his weariness._

_"__I am not one to be blinded by victory," answered Gaius. "I won't cause death of excellent soldiers through underhanded tactics. They are warriors who, if they choose so, will one day support my country and help me forge a rightful path for the good of this nation. I want to build a country where the strong show the way to the weak, where no name means more than merit and justice can be exercised regardless of the individual's birthright. I do not wish to lose the people who would become the foundation of my country because they are currently my enemies. But that," he added with a smirk, "is up to you."_

_"__And I am supposed to trust the words of a seventeen-year-old."_

_"__Yes. I am talking to you, who is now facing me at barely thirteen years of age. To you, Lin of Londau, the renowned descendant of the Seven Sons of Ajur who succeeded his father at eleven. Your father was blinded by glory and came back home, having lost many of our people to the tsunami because he had discarded my words as the whining of a child. Will you commit the same mistake?"_

_"__My father died by your sword. Leave the old man to rest in peace," Lin clenched his fists. "If I participated in that battle, it wouldn't have ended in a draw. I would have led Ajur to victory and you..."_

_"__If you had been leading instead of your father, the outcome of the battle might indeed have been very different. And the more you corner me with your brilliant tactics, the further ahead you push me."_

_Gaius bowed his head slightly as a sign of respect he felt for the little General even then and strode off into the darkness unaware of the impression he had made on the youth. He gave Lin a choice, but he couldn't make it in his stead. And whichever choice he would make, Gaius would happily show him the weight of every single word he had said on that hill. _

_...On the following morning, he was awoken out of uneasy slumber by a very agitated Yan Wi._

_"Can you imagine, Gaius, in the dead of night… they just broke the camp and left. Withdrew in perfect order, took their horses, provision, everything! And it isn't a decoy, our scouts have combed the area for hours. They haven't found even a trace of their army. Take a look yourself!"_

_"So the little General did listen to me, after all," murmured Gaius, slipping into his armor._

_Mornings in Mon Highlands even in summer were misty and cold, but in the fall the wind chilled to the marrow. The sky was perpetually frowning, gray clouds hanging low. Gaius approached a precipice and, leaning on a large boulder, glanced down at the small lake where only yesterday Lin's vanguard could be seen. Now only sparks of light danced on pristine carpet of snow. His heart throbbed quickly, unevenly and to hide his excitement, he calmly addressed his adviser._

_"And the avalanche?"_

_"I gave out the orders to descend the mountains. We will be careful, my lord."_

_Gaius's intuition didn't fail him again when after a swift march downstream, he met Londau army on a plateau as flat as a saucer. They successfully avoided the avalanche without casualties and managed to secure a good position where due to natural obstacles it would be hard for the little General to surround them. Not quite impossible, but hard._

_Two armies, battered in countless battles, faced each other across the plateau. Behind were carts with provision and sick, deep wounds each hid under the brash façade of proud banners flapping in the wind and even rows of armored infantry. Cold wind gathered strength and it began snowing. Gaius was calm, awaiting the clash in the second row of his footsoldiers. He was prepared to cross swords with the little General himself, but then suddenly a lone horse detached itself from the looming crowd and slowly headed towards them. It was some time before Gaius noticed a small rider on its back and ordered the archers not to shoot. He should have anticipated it, but he was still surprised when Lin knelt before him in liquid dirt and uttered those words. _

_"Please, accept my surrender on the condition that you will spare the lives of my people." His lips trembled from cold, but he obstinately refused to rise until Gaius accepted the ceremonial sword and only then did he take a step backwards, no less absurd in his black baggy clothes than the day before._

_There was no battle that day. The little General kept his word. His army with the exception of a few disobedient nobles surrendered to the last footsoldier, accepting Gaius's command, and Lin himself agreed to be his guest and prisoner. The future king felt conflicted. A part of him knew that he should take Lin's life, in spite of what he promised him hitherto. Gaius decided to sacrifice himself for the happiness of his nation and in the moments of extreme conviction, selflessness seemed to him synonymous to a state devoid of self. How could he have shame or remorse? And yet, there sat Lin Londau, a warm blanket wrapped around his frail shoulders, his cheeks covered by hectic flush, his face thin, sorrowful, childlike, and knowingly gazed at his captor. It was evident that he resigned himself to his fate._

_"Why have you taken everything from me?"_

_Gaius compressed his lips and contemptuously replied, "Why have you given it away so easily? You could still fight, you had an army, loyal generals…"_

_Lin raised his eyes and he saw a glimmer of tears in them which the young patriarch hastily wiped with the back of his palm. "I thought that after we spoke – and I couldn't sleep that night, pondering over your words – I thought… you would understand! My life, my ambition, they are not worth the lives of my people… You would have won this battle."_

_"How can you be so certain?"_

_The young patriarch arranged pieces on the strategy board, moving them adroitly across the minuscule battlefield. "You descended the mountains here so as to prevent me from surrounding you. You placed archers in front rows so that they would fire a volley of arrows and then switch to weapons of hand-to-hand combat. When armies clash, archers are of no use… You were not aware that one of my commanders deserted after I ordered to retreat. You even had advantage in numbers." Their gazes met. "I bet you were aiming to separate…"_

_"Humph, that's impressive. And yet war is the province of chance. You had a chance to claim your victory. You simply lacked confidence."_

_"Perhaps, but then I would find myself in your position, deciding what I should do with you. I could exile you, but you would return. I saw it in your eyes, I heard it in your voice, the insatiable desire to fight… Or I could execute you because you killed my family. But I myself had a vision of united Ajur, guided by the hand of a worthy king. A king who cares about his nation... I thought I could become that king..." He had a fit of coughing, awkwardly covering his mouth with his hand. "Forgive me… Your rebellion inspired me to dream and if I close my eyes, I can still see that vision... But what I did not see was the long road which led to that vision, a long bloody road… fighting those who did not give a damn, who opposed the change out of fright, or simple people who never even knew what they were fighting for… What I did not see was fighting you. They call you the Dawn King. After I spoke to you, I understood why. I could not live with myself if I bereft Ajur of the long awaited dawn…" The passionate speech sapped his last strength and Lin closed his eyes._

_Intrigued, Gaius scrutinized the boy. His response rang with mockery, but it was habitual, not genuine._

_"Why did you choose to believe me? It could have been a clever ploy to compel you to abandon an advantageous position. I was your enemy, you didn't have to trust my words. And now I need to know why."_

_"I trusted you because you were sincere..." His voice quavered and silent tears streaked his face. "I trusted you because I desperately wanted to. My father... I did not want to think he died in vain. I'd rather cowardly believe there was a reason..." Then he recovered himself and haughtily whispered. "Do with me whatever you wish. I lost my family, I lost my throne, my duty is fulfilled... My life truly has no worth now…"_

_It was then that Gaius understood that he could not execute Lin. He felt ashamed of himself for his thoughts, but worse than shame was an odd ache in his chest. Lin was a kindred soul, a child who never had the time to be one. Perhaps he had neither his strength nor his confidence, but courage and intelligence he had in abundance. And he knew the pain and necessity of sacrifice. In hindsight, what Gaius did to him was rather cruel. _

_"I see." Was all he said._

_Lin's face was distorted as he tried to hold back tears, but they were freely streaming down his flushed cheeks now. "Please, believe me!"_

_Gaius smiled softly. Or was it Arst? "I believe you, Lin." The words did not alleviate the ache in his chest._

_Lin wrapped himself in a blanket and refused to utter another word. The future king couldn't think of what to say either; he stood for a while, staring at a blank wall of the tent, and finally left him to rest._

_Outside, Yan was waiting for him._

_"I was wondering how far you will go to accomplish what you believe is right." When Gaius didn't respond, he waved his hand towards the tent. "What are we to do with him?"_

_"I don't know. Post two sentries on both sides of the entrance to guard him if he decides to escape." The truth was that he didn't trust anyone._

_All around him silence reigned, undefeated._

* * *

Editing ended up to be quite extensive, but I hoped you like my new chapter :)_  
_


	3. At daybreak

**At daybreak**

Gaius usually rises early, his active nature does not let him sleep long. He takes a quick bath, dresses himself (he despises the tradition when the king had to be dressed by a valet) with taste, giving preference to simplicity rather than ostentatious pompousness, and leaves his chambers to attend to the weighty matters of state. Arst Outway quickly gets into the same habits, rising when through the window come the first few oblique rays of morning sunshine. He checks his GHS for new messages, hoping that he doesn't cause another mishap by his inability to use these modern frills, and dresses himself in a suit made of fabric instead of a suit of armor he wears in Khan Baliq. Sometimes he forgets how to tie his tie and asks his neighbor, a kind old woman who is almost always at home, to tie it for him. She shakes her head, tells him querulously that he needs to find himself a young lady, but always agrees to do that simple favor for him. Without Wingul at his side, he is often lost in this new foreign world, suddenly finding himself not in the forefront of progress, but in the back where all relics of the past, like Nils Freeden, belong. But he keeps walking for Wingul, alone, and nothing will thwart his own slow but steady progress. He will persevere with his work, Gaius tells himself when he wakes up. It is not a fervent prayer, not even a whisper escapes his lips; it is not a promise which may not be fulfilled; it is the only truth he knows and it is that no matter how hard his journey may be, no matter how steep the path, with or without hope, he will succeed.

This morning is different. Musee ties his tie, his messages are in order and he sits down to drink a cup of coffee in her company. She doesn't need sleep, she is as sprightly as ever, and gazes at him with undying interest. "Where did you spend the night at?" He inquires, stirring his aromatic drink with a small spoon. "I didn't expect you so early in the morning after we parted yesterday."

"Here and there," she replies, without taking her eyes off him. "I don't need rest, I don't need food, I don't need to get dressed in the morning. Mine is a very comfortable existence."

"You don't dress... then what is your outfit made of?"

"It is as much an extension of me as my arms or my hair," a playful smile lights up her face. "You can say that I am naked and you won't be wrong. But the notion of nudity is unfamiliar to a Spirit, for we exist in many shapes. I know humans look differently without clothes only because I've lived with them for a long time. They look pale underneath and not so colorful."

The revelation startles him a little, but Gaius hides it well, pretending that his coffee is too hot. "I'll be meeting with some people later today to discuss a few important political issues, but you're welcome to come with me."

"Are these the same people with whom I've seen you earlier? I recall one old gentleman had this rather funny beard, it funnily stood on the end, reminding me of..."

"Musee, are you coming or not? And no, I am merely meeting a few young enthusiasts to discuss politics and progress." Yesterday was the twenty-first day of Foret in Riese Maxia, which would mean that sixteen years had passed since his war with the little General, sixteen long years.

"I'm going to visit that old lady to whom I read stories sometimes... Such silly human stories. I won't be of any help to you."

Gaius sets aside an empty cup and rises, facing the window and the rainbow in the wooden frame, which like a bridge is thrown from one edge of the seemingly never-ending canopy of heaven to the other. It rained at night and the roofs are still dark and wet. "Have you ever considered, Musee, why people seek power?" He asks quietly. "What is it that attracts them to that concept? Power doesn't bring happiness, power is more a test to one's character than adversity, power is a vague dark shadow, and yet... people stubbornly seek it."

"No, Arst, I don't."

"Precisely. You're a Spirit, you won't understand. Great Spirits don't die permanently while people do. I believe that our insatiable craving for power is rooted in our mortality. We are afraid to die, we are afraid to be forgotten, and power gives us that chance to distinguish ourselves among others, to leave a mark in history. But to seek power for its own sake is pointless... Power is a shadow, it gains shape only in application. The vice does not hide in the search of power, it lies in its application. You can apply power to benefit others or to harm them and benefit yourself. Therein lies a difference between a great ruler and a tyrant." Gaius sustains a pause to give his words more weight. "My father used to say that one gains power by pretending to be weak. I used to disagree because I didn't understand him. Later, I understood, but I still disagreed. There is such a moment when your benevolent intentions cannot compensate for the lack of power and in that singular moment you rediscover yourself once again."

***o***

_Two uneventful weeks passed after Lin's surrender in Mon Highlands before hasty preparations were concluded and Gaius could meet with the influential families from the court of Londau patriarch to formally discuss and finalize the delegation of powers. De juro he now held the title of the Londau patriarch – the title of which Lin was stripped – but many nuances and obstacles arose in his way, rendering all his achievement questionable. Seven families from the Londau tribe were part of the Large Council of tribes which formally was the most powerful ruling body in Ajur. De facto all power belonged to the Small Council where the decisions were made by the seven most powerful patriarchs, but nevertheless Gaius did not find comfort in the hope that those families would welcome the drastic change he brought into their lives._

_The royal house of Londau tribe was no more. Gaius did not intend to accept the title of the patriarch or bestow it upon anyone; Londau tribe was to become the core of _Taurus_, the core of his uprising and on its example he intended to implement rather radical reforms. To achieve that with as little resistance and bloodshed as possible, he needed Lin's support, but the little General obstinately kept aloof from all matters, mundane and governmental, refusing to aid him, but not daring to oppose him either. What did he want? Could he be trusted? Gaius was not certain he understood his former adversary._

_His first impression of him, Gaius thought later, turned out to be quite accurate; Lin possessed a mind of great capacity and displayed a considerable talent for swordsmanship notwithstanding his bodily weakness. In part, he owed his pallor and frail appearance to deep and raw wounds which he with silent stoicism hid from the world, but the harder he tried to hide them, the more noticeable they became to Gaius. As for the rest, the youth remained a mystery to the future king; an alluring and annoying mystery of a kind he hoped to solve before he would be compelled to stifle the sprouts of sympathy in the name of the sacred duty he had bestowed upon himself._

_Nils's role, on the other hand, seemed self-evident. Lin's father entrusted the protection of his only child to him and by the way they behaved towards each other, Gaius concluded that they shared a rather strong bond. One had to be blind not to notice how Lin often sought an approving nod or glance from his servant; how he briefly leaned on Nils's shoulder while conversing with a hoary nobleman Gaius had never seen – the conversation was short, but heated. In other circumstances he would not pay heed to such trifles, but his position within the Londau tribe was still precarious and if Lin were to betray his vow, Gaius would find himself fighting a long fight._

_They agreed to meet in the town hall of Samar, but before the meeting was to convene, Gaius expressed a desire to see Lin face to face inside his marquee. The little General didn't come alone, bringing Nils with him for a proper introduction. Unlike their last meeting in a rather informal atmosphere during which Lin succumbed to momentary weakness, this time he comported himself with dignity; he was still pale, but calm and his calmness was stately. His eyes shone with determination._

_Gaius sat on a cushion, with his legs crossed and back as straight as an arrow, more a symbol than a person which is what he intended to be regarded as. A symbol._

_"I hope you have been treated and accommodated properly," he said, breaking the awkward silence. "I do not want to make an impression of a rude host. In my mind I conceived a design... a design I deem suitable and advantageous for both of us, but I do wish to hear what you have to say. I offer you to become my ally in the war I will wage against Merad with privileges of an ally, but you will serve under my command. You will retain certain influence, but..."_

_"I don't remember you, you must be some commoner and you speak to a Londau patriarch who, despite his age, had many times earned the respect of his people."_

_"It's quite all right, Nils," Lin interrupted him, placing his palm onto his servant's shoulder and smiling faintly. "I told you before, I will tell you again, I made up my mind and I regret nothing."_

_"But my lord... Lin..."_

_"Please, continue, you have my utmost attention."_

_Those words were addressed to him although the raven-haired boy – at times, he couldn't even think of him as a young man – directed his vacant stare at the wall._

_"I do not wish to strip you of all your privileges, but know that in my army the position is earned by merits, not by status or wealth or even my personal sympathy for your cause... which – I mean my personal sympathy – I express solely because your talents impressed me. If you show me you are willing to dedicate yourself to our goal, then you won't need to worry about your position."_

_"And if I were to agree with you, what would you expect of me?"_

_Gaius folded his arms, "I want you to help me unify Ajur, of course. But I do not want to see my country as a sum of its parts, rather, I want to see it gain integrity through change. We need a land reform, the abolition of the nobility's privileges, a strong king, and many other things. And birth is neither bloodless nor painless."_

_"I remember," quietly echoed Lin. "I remember everything you told me... by heart. But if you truly want to change so much... and I agree with you, understand me aright, but if you do want it, I alone won't be able to help you. Why do you think they like me and follow me? Because I won their battles and I am my father's son."_

_"This isn't true, my lord!" Indignantly objected Nils. "You are so much more than your father's son!"_

_Lin flinched and compressed his lips, looking even more grief-stricken than a moment ago._

_"You let me worry about that as well," Gaius continued his thought. "Even a small child can break a thin twig, a strong adult may break fifty, but a hundred, tied together, gain the firmness of steel. You won't be alone, but in a cohesive formation each role is irreplaceable."_

_"Do you know who you will be facing? To persuade seven most powerful families of my clan will seem like a trifling challenge. I dreamed of unity, but your design... it verges upon madness. Hear me out! Even if you find someone who is willing to see your vision, there will be many more who will choose to remain blind because they cherish their power. And they over the centuries accumulated so much power."_

_"What do you suggest then?" He asked out of curiosity and with unhidden mockery._

_"Do not defy the ancient tradition," mumbled Nils._

_"You are also wrong, my friend," Lin uttered with sudden firmness and his eyes flashed fire. "You simply need to keep silent. Be patient, be prudent. The words you said with passion which imbued my mind and kept me awake for hours that night, you should not speak them so freely and carelessly. You took an unnecessary risk... Understand me, I was fascinated, but what if in my place was one of my uncles? Do not repeat the same words tomorrow in front of that gathering. Be moderate in your demands and then slowly, subtly introduce greater change."_

_"But there is no guarantee your strategy will work either. Water wears down the stone, but it takes years, decades which I do not have."_

_"No, there is no guarantee at all..." agreed Lin with that familiar faraway look, as though losing the momentary interest he had in the conversation._

_"Humph, then your advice is of no use to me," Gaius said in an offensively scornful tone, intending to observe Lin's reaction, but to his surprise the little General didn't say a word, didn't try to dissuade the future king or justify his rightness. "Tell me what you know about the seven families."_

_"Court gossip which you will find insignificant. Rumors were afloat that Alon, having certain monetary problems, invested into the development of the advanced spirit artes_, _but I do not know whether he had success or not. Our clans always prepare for a new war with each other."_

_"Advanced spirit artes?"_

_"Much to my dismay, I know very little about them. To me it seemed as though they tried to test linking three or more people to cast artes, but I fear such an attempt is fruitless." A shadow crossed Lin's face. _

_"What else can you tell me?"_

_"A few years ago – Nils, do you remember when the debate between the three great tribes happened?"_

_"I was nine or ten, my lord."_

_"Yes, it might be seven or eight years... How awfully odd... The three great tribes of Ajur, Londau, Shin, and Wi gathered together to decide once and for all which bloodline descends from the great sage Kresnik who defeated the Chimera beast. Each brought _irrefutable _proof. I read about it somewhere... We had our language, Londese, which in the ancient time bore a different name. They showed artifacts which supposedly belonged to the sage himself. The debate was heated and ludicrous, lasting for a few days before a young man from Wi tribe rose and confessed that their documents were forged, thus leaving only my clan and Shin to compete for that questionably honorable title. He also suggested that Kresnik's legacy rests upon all of Ajur and even Rashugal. A very bold young man he was... Later I heard that great trouble befell him. But although it was not decided who the rightful heir of Kresnik was, Londau and Shin never made peace with each other. In the end..." The smile on Lin's lips was rueful and somewhat constrained. "In the end, you came and triumphed over us and soon you might triumph over them... Why do I understand it? Or do I pretend I do?"_

_The last words were spoken so softly that Gaius, although he heard them, thought they were meant for Nils only who, as if to confirm his guess, threw a quick, worried glance at his master._

_"Hm... I never knew that such a debate took place. But I agree with that young man; the origin theory justifies why king Merad and the three great tribes remain in power. If the myth is to be dispelled, anyone in their right mind can question the reason why it isn't he who holds the supreme authority."_

_"That young man... His name was Yan Wi and I heard he was exiled."_

_Yan Wi? Gaius was taken aback at the sudden revelation, which evoked unpleasant feelings in him, but outwardly on his face were reflected none of those doubts and suspicious._

_"Are you certain you remember his name?"_

_"Yes, I even remember where I read about him... in the memoirs of my father."_

'What an unpleasant coincidence,' _thought Gaius. '_I do not understand its significance yet and maybe there is no significance in it at all, just a coincidence.'

_Suddenly he wanted to be alone with his thoughts and glanced at Lin with irritation, as if it was his fault for being there, for bringing Nils, for treating him ever so _friendly_, for reminding him, involuntarily, that he had no friends. He wanted friends and solitude at times became loathsome, but he sought it as the only escape from what was even worse than being alone. Who would even _want _to be his friend? Lin... no, it was a wishful thought, a momentary confusion, but now he clearly understood the absurdity of it._

_Therefore he felt immense relief upon Lin's departure. However, doubts kept gnawing on him and he paced up and down the marquee instead of concentrating on his speech until he finally gave in and summoned Yan. His ally appeared to be in high spirits and soon the reason was revealed – he was tipsy. Upon entering, he proclaimed in an elated voice:_

_"You should have seen the expressions on their faces, Gaius. Old fools! Yesterday they were mighty and arrogant and today they are obsequious to us, ready to do our bidding. How fickle is human nature! Only think of it... you strip them of their power and they forget who they are. I know a king when I see one. They are hypocrites and whores who sell themselves to whoever pays more... Speaking of whores, I think you should find yourself a woman. You've been awfully tense lately. Follow my example, don't get yourself involved in anything serious. I, if you wish to know, enjoy a particular kind of women..."_

_Gaius listened to him with a listless look and no sooner had Yan finished his tirade than he straightforwardly inquired, "Did you take part in the debate between the three great tribes? Answer me honestly."_

_Ostentatious gaiety vanished momentarily from Yan's face and he fixed his eyes on Gaius. "From whom did you hear such a thing?"_

_"It isn't important. What matters, however, is whether you did or did not participate."_

_"What if I did?!" He cried out maliciously and irritably. The change in his mood was so sudden that only a blind man would not have taken notice of it. "Everyone says they want the truth, but when they have it, they don't know what to do with it! Why do you seek it?"_

_"I do not like to be unpleasantly surprised about my allies; even less do I like hearing it from people I don't know. What reputation will I earn? Keep your personal secrets to yourself, but I need to know every single detail which may affect the course of my actions."_

_"How... I cannot possibly think how that awfully inconvenient matter of the past would hinder you."_

_"When I seek allies, I will meet with representatives of Wi clan. Their young leader, I recall, is quite the coward. Whereas others will have to be subdued by force, he might be pressured by the rumors of my success... However, I don't believe they forgot your involvement and that means I cannot take you with me. What if that brings our negotiations to naught? What if your exile you owe to that meddling in their affairs? What if you were set up because somebody bore a grudge against you?"_

_"So you will judge me then... Calumny and ingratitude, I get nothing else! Anyone in my place would have stopped trying, but I try and try, like a fool! No, not a fool... a madman! That's who I am! I knew I should stay away from the baseness of politics and court intrigues."_

_"Hm... You acted according to your conscience, but due to the unforeseen complications, I cannot allow you to accompany us to the negotiations with your clan," Gaius said quietly so as to avoid provoking him into anger. "Have you ever thought that perhaps your wife had never cheated on you with your rival?"_

_Yan took a step backwards, momentarily looking frightfully pale, as though he had seen a dead man walking, but restrained himself, pursing his lips and thrusting his hands into his pockets. Like that he stood for another long moment, pondering over something intently – and that intensity reflected on his distorted face – and then proclaimed in a flat voice:_

_"No, it is not possible. Your assertion is absurd. I was drunk that night, me and him got into a fight, guards tried to pull us apart, I resisted, hit him in the face... Blood gushed from his nose, dripped onto his lips. I was repulsed by that sight, imagining those fat lips kissing my wife's, imagining that smug smirk – oh, how I hated him! I froze in a trance, unable to move, until he pulled out his sword and swung at me. Then I recoiled, but the guard behind me was not as fortunate... or maybe it was I who was hapless. I asked, you know, I asked her later and she never denied her faults. The perfidious nature of women..."_

_"However, she didn't admit her fault either, did she?" Mercilessly asked Gaius._

_"She didn't have to! That look of shame on her face, I could not have mistaken it for anything else! She wept, she asked for my forgiveness and then... when king Merad asked her if she saw me that day, she lied deliberately, with malicious intent..."_

_Gaius looked directly into his adviser's gray eyes. "Once you said you had a child, a son seven years of age. Then he must have been no older than one. What if they threatened your wife to take away your child? What if she betrayed you out of fright? What if she asked your forgiveness for what she was about to do..."_

_"No!"_

_"... and not for any transgressions she had already committed?"_

_"No, no!"_

_"I understand." A wan smile played upon Gaius's lips. "I understand, but it changes nothing."_

_...When Gaius entered Samar at the head of the triumphant procession, he did not recognize the city. It was stripped of its splendor, like a widow dressed in a funereal garb, and silently embraced the unwelcome invaders, greeting them with empty streets and the sight of gaping hollow windows. There was barely a single soul outside and those chance passersby hurried to disappear as soon as they caught sight of the procession. First snow fell onto Londau capital and lone snowflakes lazily twirled before his eyes. The air was crisp and cold and he inhaled it with pleasure, the same great pleasure which he felt, challenging tall waves on stormy days or routinely sparring with his father's guards. The frost did not frighten Gaius, only invigorated and excited him. _

_Samar somewhat resembled Khan Baliq of which, however, he had vague memories, but instead of a castle a large town hall towered above the market square, its sole and rightful ruler. Samar's main attraction was a pair of sacred gates which stood at the entrance to the temple where, the legend said, it was once possible to summon the Great Four. The gates, painted in red and golden, hung with glowing lamps seemed to be the only bright and colorful presence in the city. Gaius left his mount by the wooden staircase and escorted by a few guards, walked down the scarlet carpet strip spread out in a hallway. There were more footsoldiers armed with spears lined up along their way. Their expressions were either blank or sullen, but they posed no threat to Gaius, their spirit of resistance was broken with the little General's surrender. _

_In the room whereto they were cordially invited was placed a long table and chairs, numbering fifteen, which was the precise amount of participants. They were the representatives of seven families, Gaius and his adherents, Lin Londau himself and his servant. The walls were decorated with depictions of the dragon of Londau as well as a simple, unobtrusive emblem of his followers – a black linen with two red stripes. Gaius found his chair and after the clamor which arose with his entrance died down, addressed the nobles. He spoke of change he was going to bring into their lives, he spoke of the government's role, of the necessary reforms and the long war with the neighboring clans._

_"__...People need to respect the government," he said. "But subjects will have no reverence for a government which outwardly represses them and does not take care of them. Our current institution of monarchy exists in utter disharmony with the people, with the people's needs, our monarch doesn't have personal allegiance of many subordinates, for their loyalty belongs to the system, to the vague tradition rather than to the king himself. I have come to establish a new order which rationalizes the role of government to the leading role and not oppressing, a new order which will not exist for itself, but for the people it will protect and represent. I will establish unity between our clans and order. It will require of me a rather bold and drastic decision to rescind the privileges of the aristocratic nobility which you receive by birthright." A discontent murmur rippled over the audience and a very indignant noble stood up. "But this is what I must do to protect those who have none of those privileges, those who are weak and wretched."_

_"__If you think you can cajole us with sweet talk, I will crush those audacious dreams of yours. I will speak for everyone here... A proven tradition of governing the tribes by birthright is our rationale behind the government. If people have nothing to fear, they rise up to question and challenge your authority. Why aren't they in power, but you? How will you stop them from plunging our country into chaos?"_

_Gaius folded his arms. "An interesting question... But not one I had not yet considered. By personal conduct and strength, I shall inspire them with duty and people will have a sense of shame and loyalty. I shall awe them with law, not authority, and they will be afraid to infringe. I shall treat them benevolently and hence they will respect me."_

_"__Without birthright, you have no argument to support your position of power for long. And who will serve by your side? Respectable __commoners? It is unthinkable, inconceivable to conclude that commoners may hold positions of power. Simpletons can't rule. You will ruin us all..."_

_Lin threw at him a weary glance, as if to say , 'What did I tell you?'_

_"__I conquered you and you surrendered. Although you opposed me before, I will work for you if you allow me. But if you, out of foolishness or malignant intent, will continue to oppose me in secret, I will crush you. I will order to put you under house arrest or have you thrown into prison."_

_And then happened something Gaius did not expect and could not foresee. _

_"__Sutupurun'tiimu! Aiba dedin yaio tiadin'etin'm os," cried out another nobleman. "An jin'su miti supun'ek ioti remugoegun!" _

_"__Yaio tieruku sun'musun," at once rang a reply from the audience. "Tian opusutiedit kumibas mitiaumug ifu tian Kresnik's run'gewaya."_

_"__Baidin'shim!"_

_Gaius shifted his eyes from one face to another, and among them he saw only flustered, excited foes who smelled his blood and wanted but to mock him. He did not understand what they said, but he could infer from their intonation that it wasn't anything pleasant. They cowardly vilified him while he could not defend himself or respond to their remarks, they were taking away from him everything he conquered with the blood of his followers, and they were laughing, laughing at him as if his intentions and resolve were nothing but a ludicrous joke. Gaius clenched his fists and for a moment he thought he would cry, but then anger overpowered him which was so strong that he could not control himself as on that nameless isle of dry land where he had struck down Karla's fiance. He looked frightening like that and no one could predict what would have transpired if Lin hadn't placed his hand onto the bend of his elbow. Gaius recovered at once, stared at the little boy who was brazen enough to interrupt him in bewilderment and in the meanwhile the latter whispered, "Worry not, it is bravado, they know they lost. They rarely listened to me and they won't listen to you. They say you don't know their language and you're unfit to lead them because of your heritage... don't mind them..." he averted his face. "Please..."_

_Gaius had no choice but to trust Lin. "Then tell them I won't tolerate disrespect. Tell them I'll punish them if they speak that language in my presence without an interpreter," he slammed his palm against the tabletop with force. "Tell them!"_

_"__Surun'muwan! I speak Londese and I will be his voice if need be," Lin stepped forward and in a polite, florid manner conveyed to them his message. _

_...It would be a hard struggle against people upholding traditional values, Gaius thought when the meeting finally concluded. Most of them would not be easily convinced, but he didn't conquer them so as to convince them; if need be, he would strip them of all their power. If need be... He now knew what he would do. _

_"__Lin, join me," he said suddenly, fixing his intent stare on the youth's pale face. "I won't ask you thrice."_

_The little General didn't look away, bowing his head ever so slightly, "If you didn't notice, I already have."_

***o***

"In truth, no one called him the little General ever since he surrendered. I might be the only one who still remembers this alias," explains Gaius as he throws his long coat over his shoulders.

"Are you leaving so soon?" Musee lies in the air, with her arms splayed out, looking rather dreamy.

"Yes, I must go or I will be late."

"Then I'll go, too. I'll see you in the evening."

And with those words she is indeed gone. Gaius picks up his keys, checks his phone although he knows he won't have any new messages, and locks the door to his apartment. That he learned to do easily. It takes the elevator a few minutes to arrive at his floor.

_The little General..._

He remembers silently because in silence there is something sacred.

***o***

_One of Lin's tresses obstinately refused to be combed and stuck out ridiculously, tempting Gaius to tug at so as to amuse himself with the youth's reaction, whichever he chose to show – wounded pride, shy vexation, or unconcerned gaiety. He was seventeen years of age, leading a rebellion against the king of Ajur, and yet there he stood in front of his former adversary, thinking of the most insignificant and ludicrous matters._

_He could easily imagine a snowbound field and Lin chasing him with a snowball in his hand and snowflakes falling around them in a curtain so thick a naked eye would hardly see through it. And Lin would look solemnly sullen in his ever-so black outfit and he would laugh at the youth's awkwardness._

_It was early Undis and in the village of Vilma, snowdrifts had subsided, liquid dirt squelched under the boots, and many small streamlets murmured nearby, foreshadowing the coming of thaw. Gaius stood on the riverbank, surrounded by a crowd of people which did not dare to approach, looming at some distance, and conversed with a village elder. The elder was a sensible old man and like many respectable men in Ajur, he wore a short sheepskin coat and sturdy boots. Some villagers had scarfs around their necks, but most were garbed in thin woolen shirts and looked rather emaciated._

_Gaius could see an old watermill, its wheel dark from rust and mold, above Lin's shoulder, but then his gaze would inevitably fall on that stubborn greenish tress, swaying in the wind, and his thoughts would lose direction._

_"You said you were willing to do something for us, my lord," meanwhile spoke the village elder, "and it is time someone did something for the people of Vilma, but first I must ask you about your agenda. What is it that you seek?"_

_Gaius closed his eyes, cursing his frivolousness. "The answer to your question is simple. The world is divided into those who lead and those who follow, who are not fit to lead. It has to be a vocation born within you, a will to power, a strong volition which begets a clear vision. A clear vision for those who cannot lead..." He averted his face in sudden confusion, feeling as though he missed something important, but overcame it, clenched his fist. "Why would a healthy man need remedies? Why would a strong man need protection? I came here to find out what you need."_

_"So you say!" The elder objected with a sly smile. "Methinks you do not know the people's burden at all! You are like everyone else who come to us with hollow promises because they need us to join their cause. Find someone more trusting and naive, I say! Or prove to us you are a man of your word, reduce the heavy taxes imposed on us by the patriarch. And then... we'll see."_

_Gaius was about to agree – if only to prove his rightness – when Lin said dryly, "He wants to trick you, be careful. If you benevolently reduce taxes, you won't have the money to pay for the expenses of your army. It never works that simply."_

_Gaius remembered his father, his face, yellow as wax and wrinkled as a crumpled sheet of parchment, as he lay in the coffin; remembered his passionate oath to save his son from foolishness. Gaius who was adamant to defy his father's will and Gaius who conquered the Londau tribe believed in the same ideal, but the present Gaius was a bit wiser, a bit more prudent._

_"I cannot reduce your taxes," he glared at Lin who calmly stood, chewing on a blade of grass. Where did he find one so green? "But what I can give you is an... opportunity."_

_"Opportunity... Heh." The elder rubbed his beard and with that same sly grin procured a piece of parchment out of his pocket. "A few months ago a young fellow your age came to me and showed me this... gears and levers, a strange contraption. It doesn't need intricate spirit artes to work. I asked him what it could do and he said it would quickly clean our wool of oils and dirt to make it thicker, better. We tried to use our watermill for that, but it is not meant for fulling, only to make flour. But if someone... someone like yourself even helped us, we would be extremely grateful. We are not great fighters or statesmen, but methinks we can give you discounts on grain and wool and..."_

_"That would suffice. Let us speak with your man tomorrow morning. Tell him to come prepared, with details on materials he needs, the cost of work and time estimates."_

_When the crowd dispersed, Lin glowered at him sullenly and disgustedly shook dirt off his boot. "So that's what you decided... If they don't agree with you, you won't wait around until they change their minds. You will go to the people..."_

_"I wouldn't call it a failure. Would you?.. I was thinking the other day, Lin," Gaius changed the subject abruptly. "I want to learn the native language of Londau."_

_"__Why? You don't belong to our elite, you..." Then, as if having remembered something, Lin pursed his lips and added calmer. "I forgot myself, Gaius."_

_"__It is settled then and I wish to begin right now. What is something simple to learn? How would you say... grass?"_

_"__Gudiesus."_

_"__Guedi-... Guedisu."_

_"__Gudiesus," Lin smirked smugly. "Gu-di-e-sus."_

_Gaius irritably waved his arm. "Give me something simpler, I am just beginning to learn it."_

_"__U etu Lin," the youth pointed at his heart. "I am Lin."_

_"__U etu... Gaius," he repeated quietly. _

_"__No, you pronounce it wrong," there was an expression of inexplicable tenderness on Lin's face, as if he spoke of a certain marvel. "The stress, the intonation, all wrong."_

_"Humph, I don't see much difference."_

_"You lack artistic taste, that's why. Language is akin to music, one wrong sound equates to the wrong note and the whole passage jars upon the listener. Language is a mystery..."_

_"I'll try to remember it then," he outstretched his arm and suddenly, but without any malicious intent, tugged at the stubborn tress._

_"G-gaius," Lin attempted to stutter his name, blushing poignantly, to which he only grinned. It was as amusing as he thought. He was glad Yan didn't see them. After Lin so brazenly helped him during the meeting of the Londau Council, there was an almost impalpable tension between them, but Gaius would not at any price send either of them away..._

* * *

**Little Lamb**, I am very happy to get a comment like that xD They are my favorite characters, too. And I love writing about them so much. :)


	4. Wings of Ajur

**Wings of Ajur**

Gaius fumbles about in his pocket for the keys to his apartment and then his phone beeps, startling him so that he drops his keys, swears under his breath in Londese – a certain habit which he developed after spending years in Wingul's company who would quietly swear in his native language when he was frustrated – and reaches blindly into the dark. When he straightens, there is a slight winged shadow floating in the doorway.

"What did you say, Gaius?"

"How did you get in, Musee?"

"That's a silly question, through the window, of course. You left one in your bedroom ajar so I thought I'd sneak in and prepare a surprise for you."

He shuts the door and removes the coat from his shoulders, hanging it on a hook.

"A surprise? What sort of a... surprise?" He inquires with certain suspicion that their notions of surprise, and a pleasant surprise at that, drastically differ.

"A surprise is a surprise, but there is no harm in telling you, I suppose. I noticed how important these are to humans," she tugged at the sleeve of his fancy white shirt, "and then I saw a disorderly pile of those just lying around in your room. They were dirty so I washed them."

"I shouldn't have dirty clothes," Gaius objects, approaching a washing machine. What he finds inside happens to be a pile of crumpled white shirts and as he takes them out one by one, it dawns upon him that he indeed didn't have dirty clothes and what Musee washed was... "That's the last of my clean clothes which I was to wear tomorrow for a meeting with the representatives of Elympian government."

Musee doesn't bat an eyelid. "I did, didn't I? I thought it was strange that it lay in a pile on your couch."

"I forgot to put them away. What a fine duo we make..."

"That's not true, we make the best duo in the whole world. Hang them outside, they'll be fresh and dry in the morning... And what did you say about a meeting?"

"Rowen sent me a message," replies Gaius, following her advice. "They want to negotiate a flight treaty I proposed a few weeks ago. It seems they are ready to concede. It's good for Ajur... My castle, after all, is impregnable unless attacked from the air. If I can secure preventative measures which forbid flying vessels from crossing the borders of our countries, then we shall be safe. They'll never seize my castle, not while I am breathing," Gaius's eyes flash fire. He clenches his fist and then lets it fall flaccidly. "It's all harmless talk, I hope, and they won't dare to do such a thing, but I can never be sure. I'll have to make some difficult compromises tomorrow." He finishes hanging his shirts and returns to the room where he stretches on the couch with his arms splayed out.

"What kind of compromises?"

"Politics often requires you to give up one advantage for another which you deem more significant. Ensuring the safety of my people is a priority. I will have to agree to whatever Elympian government demands in return. I have no choice... But," he adds, "it's not the first time I compromise and it hardly is the last."

"It must be difficult," she muses, tilting her head sideways.

Gaius does not answer lest his words make a wrong impression on her.

***o***

"_It must be difficult," Yan broke the silence first, resolute and impatient as ever and, as ever, unwilling to hide his impatience. Evenings in Riviere were beautiful, thought Gaius, glancing out of the window. The sun hid in the misty veil which hung above the city, dreamlike, and tall buildings loomed on the horizon, assuming a shape of some nameless formidable guardian of tranquility —there, notwithstanding the impression, life was in full swing, proclaiming pertly its presence after long months of severe frosts. He also thought about a toy he used to have as a child, a bow from which he could shoot a small target a long distance away; he thought that the last time he enjoyed his favorite chocolate parfait was a year ago; he thought how he, wounded after his fight with Lars, finally regained consciousness in darkness, in pain and how nobles mocked him when he spoke – truly, he thought of all things trivial and unpleasant, yet despised that vile bleakness, rejecting it with his whole being. "Tomorrow you are supposed to meet with representatives from villages west of Samar who were reluctant to accept your conditions. Their demands were very much outlandish, unreasonable I would say. Who has ever given land to peasants? And yet it must be hard to refuse them, to lose allies... it seems only so humane to agree."_

"_I will not. You agree once and you find yourself facing same demands from everyone. A peasant could no more imagine a different government than a different Spirit clime. I spoke of a land reform and lessening restrictions on trade between tribes, but not of... What kind of a monarch would I be if I said: Do whatever you wish with whatever means you find suitable? Why would I speak of unification and then begin to squander what yet has to become mine rightfully? And legally..."_

"_So you will refuse and lose allies. Or they will agree with you for one reason or another, concede their ambitious ideas... Have you noticed how cold and unsympathetic you became?"_

"_Since when do you fret over the changes in my character? Cold.. unsympathetic... A government isn't a charity... What do you think, Lin?"_

"_You're too soft," rang an arrogant reply. The former patriarch sat somewhere behind him, where Gaius couldn't see him unless he made an effort to turn his head. "Why do you need to meet with them? I fail to understand it. They demand what we cannot give them, in their greed they refuse to relent. Aren't they ashamed? No, whatsoever not ashamed. In the old times, my father would send them away without consideration."_

"_I never thought I'd live to see a day when an adult would find me disagreeable..."_

"_I never meant disagreeable, a bit callous perhaps..."_

"_Nevertheless, callous... whereas a thirteen-year-old boy would call me too soft. Quite unexpectedly, too..."_

"_I will be fourteen soon," reproached him Lin. "And I read a lot since I was seven."_

_Gaius laughed, feeling his shoulders shake in the heavy shell of battle armor. "That's beside the point. Don't you recall where we spent the last two months? Traveling from one village to another, tirelessly, working from dawn to dusk... Why the messengers we sent, announcing my decree that the vassals of the former Londau tribe are now free from the yoke of the noble landowners and beholden to serve but me, why those messengers came and went, but I still thought it wasn't enough? I need their trust, Lin. There was no trust between the government and its subjects in your father's times. And even if our negotiations fail, it won't be a waste of time because they need to believe that I will listen... At the very least, I can hear them out. There is no harm in listening..."_

"_It's not worth listening to them because they don't understand what you wish to do for Ajur. They won't see the future beyond the boundaries of their egoistical desires. That's how people are... Do you listen to court gossip when a few scandalized matrons gather together to discuss hypothetical amorous adventures of a husband married to a young girl through an arrangement made by their parents now suspected – suspected, I repeat – of gross infidelity? It's a waste of time," his voice imbued with cynicism, that childish cynicism, which lacked the hardened fatalism of a defeated adult, hiding behind his wounded ego, and bared only very simple, very honest pain, said Lin. Gaius wasn't quite certain where he knew it from; perhaps, through empirical observations, perhaps from Yan, perhaps he simply, inexplicably knew... But Lin's words didn't anger him._

"_What about your mother? Was she, too, the subject of this court's gossip or was your father a paragon of virtue?" Lin didn't respond. To Gaius his silence meant his readiness to listen; he didn't spend much time thinking about the particulars of a relationship Lin's parents must have had before he killed Lars. Even now he was not certain what happened to Lin's mother. "But if you consider my endeavors a waste of time, I'll dismiss you from your duties tomorrow. Yan will accompany me instead. I won't need your assistance with that language of yours since the villagers don't speak it."_

"_Don't forget that you have three hours of court tomorrow. I received a complaint that the current head of Samar cannot pass a sentence in a few number of complicated cases. She asked for your assistance since you decided you would revoke certain old regulations."_

"_Very well, I'll look into it. But you will have to remind me tomorrow, Lin..."_

_In that very moment the door in the far end of the room was opened with a loud creak and Nils appeared, accompanied by a vaguely familiar stout man in rich garments. From his previous meetings with old nobility, Gaius recalled his name, Olav Londau, a head of a small branch of Londau family which separated a few hundred years ago during one of their territorial squabbles (Gaius didn't put effort into understanding those internecine conflicts). The fleeting impression Olav created upon him was that of a coward who sought to profit from any, however disadvantageous, situation with astuteness of a true merchant. Everything about him seemed fragile, weak; if he ran, Gaius imagined with strange satisfaction, he would run out or air; if he tried to fight, he would look ludicrous. Perhaps, he should have been a merchant rather than a noble, since anyone who looked at his face (an unremarkable face) would know that he would sell anything for the right price. Gaius had no place for people like that at his side. And yet there he stood, absent fear or reverie, under Gaius's intent, discontent gaze showing no visible signs of discomfort, and asked for trust. _

"_Your Excellence," he began, titling him in a way he never asked to be titled. "I came here to speak on behalf of other influential Londau families. At your behest, we were treated harshly, but perhaps there was a misunderstanding... you know what I imply. And we will be willing to forget it had ever happened, but not unless something was returned to us... a few privileges, perhaps. Hear out what I have to say. You will need allies in this war, not the kind of allies you may find in your travels. And we understand you're a young quick-tempered man with great ambition. I am sure in our ambitions we can find a common ground."_

_Men can't be trusted, not him, not Yan or Lin or Nils – none can be trusted to understand him._

"_Ambition... I have an ambition, but what do you know of it? What common ground do you seek with someone like myself? During the Second Unification war your tribe allied itself against the insurgents and although it was a very sloppy attempt doomed to failure, the nobles of Londau showed their position towards the prospect of united Ajur clearly." _

"_Even if you refuse to come to an agreement with the rest of the nobles, I am sure you and I have a lot to talk about it."_

_Yan rose, seething with indignation, but Gaius outstretched his arm and his adherent sank back into his chair. _

"_Let him speak, Yan. Humor me, what do we have to talk about? I am in power, I dictate my conditions, you don't have anything to offer me. You didn't even put effort into convincing me that I should reconsider my decision..."_

"_Regrettably, I can't convince you, but I am in possession of something you want. It so happens I know something that will interest you and in exchange for my willingness to help you, I only ask to retain my wealth. Take away my title, but leave the land in my possession and you will earn one ally among your sworn enemies."_

"_That's preposterous!" Cried out Yan._

"_Even if I can find use for you as a spy, they will figure out soon that it was you who betrayed them. And then my investment won't pay off. The fragile trust I've established will be broken... I won't need your services, Olav. If they rebel openly, I'll easily crush them in a battle again."_

_His countenance changed, there was a flicker of fear in his eyes, and he made a few steps forward in an attempt to either fall on his knees or shout at them with indignation, but Lin was quicker. He unsheathed his sword and jumped between Olav and Gaius's chair, pointing its sharp blade at the terrified noble (no, no a fighter at all). _

"_Save your tricks for someone else, _old man_," he said quietly and threateningly. Somehow he resembled an angry cat. _

"_You overstepped your boundaries, Lin," said Yan. "You..."_

"_Traitor," interjected Olav. "You surrendered while you could still fight. I always knew that side of our family was weak and incompetent. Your father boasted of his prowess and where is it now? Where did it get him, his boasting? To the grave, that's where it got him..."_

_Lin shuddered, lowered his hands and with a droop of shoulders stepped away from the noble, still belligerent but miserable and humiliated at the same time. Gaius observed the scene silently, thinking whether he could, in an unlikely scenario that Lin would not stay faithful to him, use Olav's greed against him, however, Nils could not bear his master's disgrace. _

"_Don't you dare call my lord a traitor! Where were you when his father bravely fought against this recreant and died? Where were you when his uncles perished one by one? Why were you hiding behind the back of a thirteen-year-old boy who fought your battles for you if not out of despicable cowardice which runs in your veins with blood since the time your ancestors stabbed the Londau patriarch in the back in an attempt to cease power for themselves? Your ruinous actions are the reason he stands today, bowing his head to..."_

"_Nils..." Quietly pleaded Lin._

"_No, let me speak my mind, my lord. For half a year I was silent, but I can no longer bear your humiliation wordlessly. No one should ever accuse you of not having enough wit or strength or..."_

"_Nils, I wish to hear of it no more. No more! I order you!" The blood had risen to his pale cheeks and his eyes flashed fire. There was something stately in Lin's struggle, something tragic, as though he was a noble stag fighting off rabid dogs which attacked him from all sides and strove to bite his legs to slow him down – a savage struggle, but Gaius continued to await a denouement with patience of a saint. Then the youth turned to Olav. "And you... You have no shame or conscience if you speak to me of courage and resilience. My uncle Ingo asked for your assistance and you refused to listen to him. Perhaps you thought all will be resolved on its own. Perhaps you thought that as elder members of my family die, the way for your ambitious ascent will be cleared. Perhaps... perhaps you're just an old fool. An old fool for having come here and begging him for sympathy which he does not feel."_

"_I'll prove it to you," Olav replied arrogantly and pointed a finger at him. "I'll prove to you that although I consider you a madman, I intend to assist you... in your madness. I'll tell this to you for free and do what you wish with that knowledge. Do what you wish... They are conspiring against you. Every time you're traveling, they gather together in secret and plot."_

"_They? Who? It's laughable..."_

"_Laugh to your heart's content, but they plan to kill you. I tell you this so that you understand you can trust me. And here I shall excuse myself. If you wish to know more, I made a reasonable proposition. Think about it..." He paused, adding with a strange expression, "young king."_

_When Olav withdrew, Yan jumped to his feet and, pacing up and down behind his chair, proclaimed: "We need to do something, Gaius. You heard the scum. They're plotting to kill you. We can't wait until they make an attempt on your life. We must strike now when they are comfortably thinking..."_

"_We need to conduct investigation."_

"_We must investigate first," Gaius and Lin said simultaneously, exchanging glances, and Gaius nodded his head, as though he had found a silent confirmation to his thoughts. He nearly lost his temper during Olav's speech, but now he was calm again. "Lin, since you are free tomorrow, I have an assignment for you," he added. "Investigate those rumors about a conspiracy among the former Londau nobles and find me something about this Olav, something... compromising."_

"_What do you mean?"_

"_Use your imagination. If he extorts money from merchants, I want to know from who. If he visits prostitutes regularly, I want to know how many." When he mentioned prostitution, Lin undoubtedly looked embarrassed and he laughed to himself at the boy's almost sickeningly proper manners. Give him two or three years and he would be attending brothels with the rest of his ill-assorted group. "That sort of dirty, compromising secret which no one wants to talk about. If I ever decide to accept his proposition, I need to ensure he stays loyal to me without having to put my trust in him. He doesn't deserve my trust."_

_When Lin and Nils left, Gaius turned to his vice-commander. "Do you know the difference between us, Yan? I thought about it for some time and still couldn't understand it until now. Today, in this room, I understood." Most servants and followers felt uncomfortable in his presence, for he was always straightforward in his speech, but Yan was among the few who never showed it. _

"_No, what are you getting at?"_

"_You are a rebel and I am a ruler. That's where the problem lies." '_And Lin is a ruler, too, but I won and he lost; however, he is a ruler and thus he is more valuable to me in future. Ah, why am I thinking about it now? Why? Because I know that once I ascend the throne, his value will only increase and Yan is only useful whilst the war lasts?'

_Gaius couldn't take his mind off those thoughts for the rest of the evening and, tossing and turning in bed at night, he pondered over the solution to the hard dilemma now posed before him. He did give certain preference to those who joined him first for it seemed fair to him to award his most loyal adherents and Yan was reckoned among them. And until he found Lin, it was a good arrangement although he felt many followed him out of infatuation with danger and the idea of a rebellion rather than out of profound understanding of his ideals. Gaius did not wish to appear ungrateful to Yan for his faithful service, but by virtue of merit and brilliance, Lin had proven himself to be a more suitable candidate for the position of his vice-commander. For more than half a year Gaius was observing his unlikely ally closely, but not only did he show no intention to betray _Taurus_, but he made considered, even brilliant decisions. He was educated well beyond his years. During a meeting with a small vassal clan of Londau whose patriarch offered Gaius assistance, Lin prevented needless bloodshed by pointing out his ignorance of native customs; Gaius did not know that according to their tradition, it was a sign of contempt and disrespect to place one's sword with its handle towards the interlocutor. His task would be much more difficult without Lin at his side, Gaius acknowledged it gratefully yet reluctantly. His relationship with the former patriarch was still strained, fragile. There were days when the youth showed nothing but passionate devotion to his cause, but there were days, rare days, when he would say something to remind Gaius that he hadn't forgotten the circumstance of his defeat. He hadn't forgotten and, likely, never will. And Yan would not take kindly to Lin's promotion. Loathing his very sudden indecisiveness, Gaius nevertheless decided to wait for an opportunity to present itself and it so happened that he did not have to wait long. _

_About a week after Olav approached them with a strange proposition, Gaius and Yan paid a visit to Samar's pleasure district. He quickly found out that the temple near the town hall wasn't the only (or even main) attraction of the Londau capital. In the pleasure district, a moated and walled fortress dedicated solely to sensual entertainment, differences became superficial and classes mingled freely, nobles with wealthy merchants and townsfolk..._

***o***

"Pleasure district?" Here Musee interrupts him for the first time and he realizes that she does not understand prostitution and sensual entertainment not unlike young Wingul when they talked about it for the first time.

"Ah... yes, pleasure district."

'_Places where you can buy pleasure_,' Gaius paraphrases in his mind, but the explanation does not clarify anything and he is once again at a loss of words. '_Places where you do pleasurable things... places where you enjoy yourself... and others... No, what am I thinking?_' He frowns, reclining on his comfortable sofa. "You will have a better understanding of it if you listen carefully."

Perhaps. Perhaps, she will.

***o***

_Lin failed to uncover substantial evidence about a conspiracy among the former Londau nobles, yet Gaius did not expect swift results. However, when the youth tried to talk him out of going to the pleasure district, he refused to listen to his excuses, finding them feeble. He would not hide inside the castle in fear of a hypothetical conspiracy. _

"_Then you should take me with you," Lin said in response to his flat denial. _

"_You? And what use will I have for you in the pleasure district?" Gaius skeptically eyed his frail figure. "You're still much too young. Maybe one day in the future you could join in with Yan and I..."_

"_I didn't mean as a visitor," blood surged to his cheeks and the youth dropped his head onto his chest. "As an added insurance that you will return safely, perhaps. I could... I might not be the strongest swordsman in your company, but I am the most reliable." _

"_And you're willing to spend the rest of the night outside in the chilly wind? These aren't the circumstances in which your assistance is required. Stay here."_

_But Lin stubbornly insisted on tagging along with them. Gaius left him in the lobby where he thought the youth wouldn't be bothered too much because of his age while Yan and him were politely invited inside. His vice-commander promised him a special treatment that night, refusing to elaborate until a woman in a sumptuous, revealing dress asked them what oils they preferred. Gaius had been with a prostitute a few times, but all was over quickly, leaving him to wonder if there was more to be explored about sensual pleasure than what he had experienced so far, however, when Yan talked him into going to the famous pleasure quarters of Samar, he only asked the girls to dance and sing for him. He was a winsome client, he had no demands or whims, and they made themselves agreeable for him. They took a liking to him, or rather to a young man of pleasant appearance, and a young man like him was in their establishment a rare guest; at least, so the girls, giggling and casting sultry glances at him, liked to say. There was a girl among them who loved his eyes. She said she saw something incredible in them and he sat, overcome with languor of celebration in the heat of a small room permeated with the smell of sweet incenses, and listened to her, wondering what vexed him. Something vexed him or it was the absence of something, he couldn't decide. It was a strange thought. Yan was always frank with him, but to his inquiries Gaius replied that spending entire nights in the pleasure district would tire him. _

"_Grapefruit, lavender, or cinnamon," he replied, perplexed. "Yan, what's the meaning of this?" He added when the woman began undoing the numerous joints and clasps on his battle armor. _

"_What are you so worried about? It's a massage." _

_Before he knew it, he lay on the table, unclothed, and warm, oily hands moved up and down his back, from waist to shoulders and to waist again, rubbing the lavender fragrance into his skin. It seemed the woman's skilled hands possessed an uncanny ability to _expel_ fatigue and strain from his body – there was no other word to describe the relief he felt. The woman had a pleasant smile which illumined her face from time to time, reaching her laughing green eyes, and suddenly Gaius realized that he desired her for those green eyes and luxuriant black hair and voluptuous figure. He didn't mind that she was quite a bit older than him, yet still young enough not to pass for his mother, a woman of great magnanimity whom he, however, did not remember well. She died when he was very young. _

"_Are you enjoying her?" Yan's voice rang as though from the well of languor and thrilling sensations which the woman's hands, now moving across his stomach, excited. Gaius looked at the ceiling, flabbergasted, for her fingers were indeed very deft and very persistent. "I take your silence as approval."_

_His throat felt dry when she leaned over him, her naked breasts against his chest, moving her slick, warm right hand with tantalizing sloth along his member. Was he enjoying the treatment? What kind of question was that? He threw a quick glance at Yan who was getting the same treatment from a lean, slender beauty and bit his lip. If his vice-commander could have a coherent conversation with him, so could he._

"_It was quite unexpected, that's all." He exhaled, feeling thin trickles of sweat gather on his brow, plastering strands of hair to his skin. His head reeled from the strong aromas of lavender and cinnamon. _

"_Would you prefer if I moved my hand faster, young sire?" The woman without a name asked as though the tricky touches of her fingers to his most sensitive parts were not arousing enough. But then, as he was about to respond, he head Lin's voice, loud and clear._

"_Gaius, we must go, immediately!" Gaius leaped to his feet, naked as he was born and confused. The woman shrieked and shrunk into a corner. "Oh... I-I..." Lin froze, wide-eyed and terrified out of his mind. "I didn't know..."_

"_Can someone explain to me what is happening?!" Enraged, Gaius snatched the towel from Yan's hands and wrapped it around his waist. "What's the meaning of this intrusion, Lin?"_

_The youth cast down his eyes, despite the gravity of the situation, but it gave him strength to explain lucidly. "Take my sword, they are..."_

_Suddenly, the room filled with people dressed in odd black garments. Each carried a weapon, a sword, or a spear, or a crude club, which they wielded very skillfully – Gaius barely dodged a blow which crushed the woman's skull. _

"_Your sword, Lin!"_

_Although Lin's katana was shorter, Gaius felt more confident with a weapon in his hand than without one. Swinging it in a glistening arch, he saw Yan jump across the room to pick up an axe an assassin (who else could these people be?), which he had slain, dropped. In a short fight which ensued, they easily gained an upper hand, but the mad scramble continued all around them. __There were dead bodies on the floor outside the room and pools of blood faintly glistened on polished wood. Walls were bespattered with crimson and screen doors were torn.__ Many women went mad with fright, running blindly to and fro about the parlor. _

_In the meantime, Lin fetched his nodachi and Gaius returned the short sword to his rightful owner. He had time to slip into his red tunic and a pair of black pants before they were attacked again. "Who are these intruders? Who sent them?" He inquired, shaking blood off the long blade of his nodachi as he pulled it out of the dead man's chest. Neither Yan nor Lin had better answers, but both of them suspected only one known foe, the Ajur nobility. _

_As they turned the corner of the hallway which led to the lobby, a tall man barred their way and when Yan rushed to him in an attempt to gain favor with Gaius, he brought his enormous club down onto the vice-commander's head. The latter parried the crushing blow, but fell onto his knees and the next swing sent him flying into the wall whereat he slumped, neither dead nor alive. The assassin roared something angrily. _

"_They use brute force," disdainfully remarked Lin, "and nothing else. They must be from Ajur."_

"_Let's end it, Lin, and let's end it quickly. There has been too much blood spilled tonight already."_

_They stood back to back and as each prepared to lunge at the enemy, a weak link appeared between them, a thin glowing thread. There was a flash of bright light, a wall of fire appeared around them and when its rage abated, they saw a heap of charred flesh on the floor mutilated beyond recognition. The youth stood, perplexed, his chest heaving heavily as if that sudden link took away all his vigor. Gaius, however, didn't feel fatigued in the least. _

"_Close down the establishment and bury these women honorably," he ordered Yan who managed to rise to his feet and then turned his attention to Lin. The night could have ended not so well for him if the former patriarch didn't run into the room to warn him on time. The youth had very good instincts, that much was certain. Gaius was about to express his gratitude in a rather curt manner to which he was accustomed when Lin interrupted him._

"_I didn't do it for you," he said mordantly with the green glitter that occasionally lit his eye. "I need nothing from you, your gratitude least of all."_

_He stood with the bloody sword in his hand under the blinking broken lanterns which shed wan light around him, with his shoulders unbent and his head arrogantly lifted. Then it dawned upon Gaius what Lin's words meant and he averted his face, holding back tears which welled up in his eyes, threatening to flow down his cheeks in hot streams, all the tears he always held back because he was a leader, a pillar of hope and virtue, not a seventeen-year-old youth. Never a seventeen-year-old youth. Who would do anything for him, for a man that he was, not a king?_

"_Get out, Lin," he said coldly. "Get out."_

_...In the morning, however, when Gaius woke up, thoughts and worries of the previous night seemed to him petty and foreign as if he overheard them in a conversation somewhere. He got dressed, quickly ate and ordered a servant to find Lin who, as it appeared, was spending time with Nils in his room since Gaius occupied his father's quarters. Having wrapped himself in a warm blanket, he perched on the arm of a large chair and read a book while sipping hot tea which his servant prepared for him. Nils seemed to be dying of boredom, but no sooner had Gaius entered than he swiftly rose, striking a hostile attitude, with one leg shoved forwards and his hands resting on his hips. His icy blue eyes wordlessly accused him of needlessly endangering his young master. Lin ignored both of them although he evidently took notice of his presence and Nils's unbecoming conduct. Without a change his pose, his eyes fixed on black strings of letters on yellowish pages of a thick tome in endless wonder, the youth said in a quiet, dreamy voice: _

"My childhood was nought but a ravaging storm,  
Enlivened at times by a brilliant sun;  
The rain and the winds wrought such havoc and harm  
That of buds on my plot there remains hardly one...*" _Then, with visible reluctance, he put the book aside and added, "Greetings, Gaius."_

_"__Good morning, Lin. We need to speak, alone. Nils," he imperiously pointed at the door, "Wait outside."_

_It was evident by the expression on Nils's face that he didn't like such unceremonious treatment, but he obeyed without objections (a small victory). Lin pretended he wasn't alarmed by his tone at all, but his gestures told Gaius otherwise (another small victory). Nevertheless Gaius felt defeated and uncomfortable. Without glancing at Lin's face, he retreated to the window and quietly said to his reflection in the glass:_

_"__With everything that happened last night, or early in the morning, say it however you want..." No, it wasn't his style of speech. He was direct, he spoke what was on his mind, he never let anyone see his weakness. "I have a proposition, but I need to ask something of you first." Gaius felt exceedingly faint – there, if Lin wanted, he could have struck him a blow. "Are you going to betray me? It's a foolish question, but I need to hear you say it."_

"_And what's the urgency? We killed a couple of fools and I wouldn't have insisted to be at your side if it was me who wanted you dead. But it wasn't me. Why would you waltz in here and accuse me..."_

"_Accuse you? Have I done such a thing? Don't get ahead of yourself, Lin."_

"_What else can your question mean? You're tactfully accusing me of treason."_

"_It means," Gaius objected, "what it's supposed to mean. Curiosity. You've helped me quite a bit in these last six months. I want you to fulfill your potential at my side."_

"_Humor me and tell me you don't think what everyone else thinks, that I am untalented, weak – worthless!" Gaius leaned on the windowsill, glancing at Lin who was on the verge of crying and suddenly found the certainty he had been missing. There was something terribly familiar and convincing in the way the youth spoke. "Humor me, give me a reason to just..."_

"_No, I believe you're quite brilliant. I have many strong swordsmen at my side, I don't need a swordsman. I need a politician, a strategist."_

"_What are you offering then?" Lin was curiosity incarnate, changing in mere moments from a furious youth on the cusp of adulthood to a grown man. "And no, to answer your previous question, I never thought of betraying you. Why would I, Gaius? I surrendered to you willingly. You were right when you said I could still fight; a perfect bloody fight it would have been, earning both of us immortal glory among our tribesmen. Only I do not think so. Others do... I swear I will not betray you. Or do you need more? Is my oath not enough?"_

_ "Lin, calm down. I intend to give you Yan's position. I want to make you my vice-commander and when this war is over, you'll be the second most important man in Ajur. It must appeal to your nature." Gaius closed his eyes. "That's why I need to trust you implicitly. Yan won't be happy with my decision, but I need to act quickly and I can't worry about his happiness. Before everything I accomplish falls apart and people flock to the streets in outrage, I am going to arrest and rid myself of a few key figures of former nobility. I also intend to accept Olav's offer. It seems he was correct about Alon and the rest." He didn't have any choice if he wanted to resolve this conflict of interests as painlessly and as quickly as possible. _

_ Lin leaped off the chair's arm. His eyes shone brightly, his movements were sharp, he seemed rejuvenated in comparison with a pale, sombre figure Gaius saw on entering his room. "You'll make me your right hand. I can't refuse this offer. Your words gladden my heart muchly." Then he added with an odd smile, "Why the sudden change of heart? Yan and you seemed to get along just fine." _

_It was his pride, perhaps, which prevented him from asking Lin earlier._

_ "That isn't your concern. The alias by which you will be known from this day onward, however, is. You must discard your current name, to tie all ties with your past and embrace a new future by my side. From this day onward, you will be known as Wingul, the wing of Ajur."_

_ "Wingul... I like it. It's simple and unpretentious." The youth's smile broadened. "I never thought you could be a romantic, of sorts," he teased. Green and black. Somewhere, Gaius recalled, he had already seen it. It teased him subtly, too, the recollection. "Yesterday, on the twelfth day of Riviere, was my birthday. Is it your gift to me?"_

_ "So you accept then... Good. I'll tell Yan the news..." _

_ "What news? I am right here,"__ said his current vice-commander upon entering and Gaius had a pang of suspicion that Nils had contributed to this awkward coincidence._

"_Lin... no, Wingul, give us a moment."_

_When the youth with his immutable companion, the thick tome of poetry, slipped out of the room, Gaius felt a surge of vexation. How more untimely could one's arrival be? And yet, Yan's effrontery somehow set him at ease. "It might not be the most pleasant news, Yan, but listen... you know me well and once I decided something, there is no changing my mind. And I decided. I'm going to give your position to Lin... to Wingul, I'm going to make him my adviser because he had proven his ability to carry out that duty better than you..."_

_No, he did not hope Yan would take the news well, neither did he find comfort in the hope that the game of compromises he played would always end happily, but he certainly did not suspect the end to be so grim... _

_***o***_

...And yet, Gaius thinks with a smile on his lips, he still would not change a goddamn thing.

* * *

* From C. Baudelaire, '_The Flowers of Evil_'


End file.
